


Ninety-Nine Problems

by lordelannette



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Bearded Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Breeding, Dirty Mouth Steve, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Rich Boy Bucky, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Size Difference, Top Steve Rogers, Virgin Bucky, fast burn, lumberjack Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25200199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordelannette/pseuds/lordelannette
Summary: After discovering something horrifying about his future, Omega Bucky runs as far away from home that he can.That is, until he crashes into a ditch and flies straight into the arms of the hottie Alpha named Steve who rescues him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 181
Kudos: 1167





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first ever Stucky piece that I started alllll the way back in 2018 but I've barely just decided to finish it since I had so much of it already done and I'm literally doing nothing else but staying at home watching as the world erupts into chaos. ✌🏻
> 
> (Those of you waiting for the update for His Omega Son, it's coming soon!)

* * *

Bucky

* * *

Bucky’s got ninety-nine problems, and one of them is that he just used his one phone call to ask the tow truck driver he met in a ditch yesterday to see if he’d be willing to bail Bucky’s sorry ass out of jail. 

It was the only phone number he could remember off the top of his head because it was one of those lame ones that was the same digit repeated all ten times. Bucky probably told him so at the time, too, but in retrospect, Bucky guesses it worked as intended. After all, he  _ did  _ remember the dumb phone number. 

An hour later, Bucky and the tow truck driver exit the county jail together. The sunlight is jarring. Like when you get out of the movie theater and expect it to be dark, but it’s still mid-afternoon and the sun is doing it’s best to blind the ever loving fuck out of you. It’s always so discombobulating. 

But, Bucky is willing to bet that to the people already outside, the sight of the hulk-sized man in stained blue jeans next to the boy in cashmere and designer loafers is equally perplexing. He thrusts his hand out to the giant in a gesture of goodwill, his jail-issued paper bag clutched close to his body in the other. “Thank you, again, for everything. I’ll pay you back.”  _ Somehow.  _

The big blond man stares at Bucky’s hand, then brings his own hands to his ridiculously narrow hips, glaring down at Bucky. Bucky’s tow truck driver is very large, with bulging muscles in places Bucky didn’t know possible, with hair on his forearms and some even peeking out of the collar of his t-shirt, so naturally his pose is intimidating. 

Or it would be if Bucky wasn’t now a seasoned criminal with a rap sheet. 

Okay, the man is still intimidating, and Bucky’s probably more ‘ _ lightly _ ’ seasoned than anything.

The man’s glaring at him, so Bucky pulls his hand back. He pushes out his bottom lip. “Are you mad?”

Mentally, Bucky slaps himself. Why did he say that? He doesn’t know. Because it was a dumb thing to say considering the man had to go out of his way to save Bucky’s sorry self. He’d never thought much about how someone could seeth before, but that’s definitely what the tow truck driver is doing. The man is  _ seething  _ at him. And it makes Bucky’s heart race just a bit. A lot. Okay, he’s fully freaking out now. 

The man is obviously the kind of guy whose button you probably can’t unpush once you’ve set him off into his gamma radioactive rage. Which, is something that Bucky now wished he had considered before calling him. And certainly before he’d asked the man if he was mad. 

Bucky takes a step back. The man takes a step forward. His dark blond eyebrows slash menacingly above his eyes, his beard not hiding the grimace on his face. “Thank you? That’s what you have to say?” 

Bucky tilts his head to the side, staring at the man quizzically. “Would you rather I didn’t thank you?” he huffs indignantly. “I appreciate you coming to my rescue. Twice in two days. So, yes,  _ thank you _ . You’re a true friend.” 

“A friend?” The man looks to the sky for support. He doesn’t find his answer there, but he does seem calm after a breath of two. “Let’s see,  _ friend _ . Do you even know my name?”

“Yes,” Bucky says automatically. He scans the man’s shirt and spots the embroidered name on the front. “Rogers.” 

The man glares harder. 

“Wait, is that your real name? Is it your first or last?” Bucky asks. 

Rogers yanks the paper bag of Bucky’s belongings away from him. “You’re coming with me.”

Now  _ that _ has Bucky pausing. “Um, no. Please give me back my--” 

“Look, you’ve been an absolute pain in my ass for two days and while I’d love to sever all ties with you, I just paid a bail bond and if you cut and run, which you are likely to do, then I’m out the money and the reputation I staked on getting you out today. I promised Sheriff Coulson you’d be a model citizen  _ so _ , until your court appearance, you and I are stuck like glue.” A big, warm hand lands on Bucky’s shoulder. “The truck is that way,” he says, nodding his chin. 

Bucky doesn’t really want to bring Rogers into his problems, but it’s not like he has anywhere else to go. So, Bucky smiles pleasantly and heads straight for the tow truck. It doesn’t matter where they go, as long as it’s away from here, but Bucky really hopes Rogers will take him somewhere to get food because  _ oh fuck _ is he starving. This town may be super small but they have to have a diner somewhere, right?  _ Right _ ? 

Besides, while they’re eating, then Bucky can figure out his next step. He’s never been on the run before. He’s never crashed a stolen vehicle before, either. It would all be very exciting if he wasn’t screwing up his entire life with every ticking minute. 

Rogers, or Mr. Rogers, gets into the tow truck after securing Bucky in the passenger side like he’s four for the second time in two days, and as soon as the door closes, Rogers is talking. “What is wrong with you?” 

“Excuse me?” Bucky turns to face the driver’s seat. 

“Do you need a translator?”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 

“So help me, Bucky.” Rogers does the breathing thing again and wrings the life out of the steering wheel with his massive hands. “Why are you like this?” 

Now  _ that  _ is the question everyone, including himself, would like an answer to. Not that he’d tell Rogers or anyone else that. 

Bucky’s fingers tap against his thighs. “Be more specific, please.” 

Rogers hardly even knows him, after all. Their dealings yesterday were not long or detailed. It’s not like they traded life stories. Rogers towed him out of a ditch. Bucky pretended he was getting ready to pay him, but since he didn’t have any way to do that, Bucky took off in his car. Well, he took off, but the car didn’t steer the way it used to pre-ditch, so he ended up wrecking it for the second time on the first corner he came upon. Hence the police involvement and Bucky’s oh-so-wonderful evening in the slammer. 

But really, that’s not enough information for Rogers to judge him about. Honestly, Bucky doesn’t really know what Rogers thinks is so wrong with him. And he tells Rogers exactly that. It sure was something to see the vein jump in Rogers’ jaw. “You stole a car.” 

“It’s my car!”

“Not according to the guy on the title.” 

The guy on the title is Bucky’s stepdad and he  _ refuses  _ to talk about him. 

“I’ve been driving that car for four years. It was given to me by my dad before he died.” 

“Where were you going?” 

“West.” 

“West,” Rogers repeats, nice and slow. 

Bucky nods. “Yes. West.” That was the extent of his plan. Well, his now derailed plan. His need-a-new plan hasn’t shown itself yet, but he can only hope that it’s better than the old plan. 

“What’s west?” 

“It’s a direction on a compass,” Bucky smiles, glancing at Rogers. He could only wonder what would happen if that vein on Rogers’ jaw explodes because it looks pretty fucking close. 

"Your parents should have spanked you more." Rogers says, flexing his hand. 

That was probably true considering Bucky's never gotten punished a day in his entire life. Well, if you were to exclude the last few disastrous years. But still, it’s never a fun thing to be reminded that you’re an unmannered spoiled brat. Especially by someone who doesn't know a single thing about him and could very easily do all the spanking for himself. 

“Then pull over and let me out.” 

Rogers only rolls his pretty blue eyes. “Calm down. If I ever spanked you, you'd be on board." 

Although every ounce of instinct is yelling at him, telling him what a fool he is for getting into a truck with an unknown guy and going against everything his parent’s ever taught him, strangely, Bucky  _ does  _ relax. Surprisingly, too, since Rogers is over here talking about goddamn spanking him. Like he's some kid. 

It makes him start worrying about his state of mind. It's not like him to be so bold with his safety. Also, it's not like him to imagine, even for a teeny tiny little second, what it might be like to be bent over for some man while he…  _ okay _ , he needs to stop this right the fuck now. Obviously, being in jail has poisoned his mind. 

But wait! If Rogers is thinking about spanking him, he's probably, more than likely, gay. 

Shit. It's a problem. Because this guy is an Alpha.  _ Clearly _ . His looks, his build, his  _ smell _ . It's a nice smell. Deep, strong, woodsy almost but with the freshness of morning dew. Bucky likes that smell. He wants to roll into it, bury himself so deep into it, let it surround him, engulf him,  _ consume _ him. 

Hello, problem. 

Alphas are rare, just as rare as omegas like Bucky are. It was silly that he'd always fantasized about belonging to one but it was always an ideal that Bucky could never shake. Betas weren't what his body craved. Sure, people went around more often than not without their fated mate and faked it, but Bucky had always waited, always hoped. It's why he's always avoided sex. 

The problem is hormones. At twenty-one, he's been able to master them pretty well but he's never come up against an Alpha who was battling his own hormones. The biological instinct to breed gets pretty strong, from what he's always heard. 

“Why west?” Rogers repeats, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts. 

“Huh?” 

“Why west? What is west to you?” 

"West is further away from home." He didn't mean for his voice to crack there at the end, but when it does, Rogers' head swings toward him, and Bucky's subjected to a very long look. 

And that's when it dawns on him. He's not the only one acting out of character here. He's willing to bet Rogers doesn’t bail strange boys out of jail every day. 

"Why did you come today? We aren't friends. We aren't really acquaintances. And technically, since I didn't pay you yesterday, we're not even in business together." Rogers nods as he's making a left turn but doesn't answer. "So, why did you come to get me out?" 

"Honestly" Rogers pauses, his blue eyes focused hard on the road. "I don't know. You're trouble. I feel like I walked into the middle of a movie scene and have no idea who the characters are or what the story is about when I'm around you." 

Bucky settles into his seat, nodding because he gets it, he does. “I’m pretty sure the movie we are watching is one of those straight-to-video deals with a convoluted plot and really bad actors," he muses. 

Nothing makes sense. He's been trying for three years to turn his life into something that does. But since his dad died, it’s just been one horrible thing after another. At least before today, he thought he understood himself, even when everything around him seemed surreal. But now, sitting next to this stranger, Bucky doesn't even have a grasp on his own self anymore. 

The one thing he does know, however, is that if Rogers is struggling with his own instincts like Bucky is, even heaven won't be able to save them.

* * *

Steve

* * *

Steve doesn't have an answer for Bucky. Not really. When Bucky called and asked him to bail him out, Steve would have liked to say he was just curious. But that would be stupid, and he's not a stupid man.  _ Usually _ . 

Everything about the omega annoys him and has since Steve met him. But, oddly, Steve likes him. A lot. And it amuses him that Bucky pushes his buttons so easily. 

Amusement is a new feeling for Steve. He doesn't get it. He doesn't like it. He doesn't want to. But there it is. Something about Bucky speaks to Steve on a level he doesn't get to with many people, and he just couldn't leave Bucky in that jail cell. 

Steve didn't need to guess that it was his Alpha instincts taking over to protect the young Omega. It's why he avoided them most of the time to solve that little problem. He doesn't mind protecting them, but he sure as hell doesn't want to be a victim of his own hormones. Being an Alpha means that his hormones are in overdrive, giving him the overwhelming, powerful desire to breed until he filled his Omega with his pups. 

And ever since he first spotted Bucky and got that real deep whiff of his omega sweetness, Steve's want has been stronger than anything he's ever experienced before. 

Which is why he couldn't leave Bucky there.

Even if Bucky tried to run away after Steve helped him. Even if Bucky was some poor little rich boy with an attitude problem. Even if most people in this town would consider Steve a recluse who avoided others whenever and however possible. 

Steve's smart enough not to let Bucky out of his sight now that he’s Steve's responsibility. Not if he wants that bond money back. Not if Steve wants to make sure he knows what happens to him. Because it's clear Bucky's a runner.

Steve turns off the highway, and Bucky looks at him again. Steve doesn't even have to see Bucky looking at him to know he's doing it. He can  _ feel _ it. Like there's some sort of tether between them. It's… well, Steve doesn't really know.

"Where are you taking me, anyway?" Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

"Home." 

Bucky inhales sharply. " _ No _ . I'm not going back there. I won't. I don't care how nice you've been to me or how much he paid you. You can't make me go back there."

Adrenaline hums through Steve's blood at the tone of Bucky's voice. That's fear in there. And a shit load of it at that. 

Steve can't stand it. Bucky's feisty and annoying and rubs Steve all wrong, but that doesn't mean Steve will allow anyone to hurt him. "I meant my home," he clarifies. "And sometime real soon, you're going to tell me about the asshole that's got you so upset." 

He sees Bucky shrug in his peripheral. "It's nothing you need to worry about." 

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." 

Bucky's eyes narrow. "Why? Why do you care? You don't even know me." 

He's right. Steve doesn't know a thing about this boy but he  _ wants _ to. He wants nothing more than to protect Bucky's vulnerable, terrified self from all the dangers in the world. 

“I can’t explain it. I just do," he says softly, gently. It’s quiet for a minute. Which Steve imagines doesn’t happen often with the little runaway. “Why did you call me? Why’d you get into this truck with me? Whatever you’re running from must be pretty bad if you’ve thrown in with me.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

Steve shoots Bucky a look of disbelief, chuckling dryly. "Well, for one thing, you don't know me. I'm driving you into the woods, and I haven't given you your phone back, yet you're more worried about me taking you home than to my possible serial killer lair." 

"I trust you," Bucky answers. Like it's all so simple. Bucky twists in his seat to face him, and Steve risks a quick glance at him. "I can't explain it. I just do." 

Bucky's… a really beautiful guy. Steve already knew that but when Bucky's saying that he trusts him and is looking at Steve with those breathtaking grey eyes, it strikes Steve in the chest just how stunning Bucky really is. He's sure part of Bucky's trust lies in the fact that Steve's a good ten years older than him, and he probably sees Steve as some old guy who helps people on the side of the road for a living. 

But Steve's not that safe. And he's not that old. 

That feeling in his chest is spreading lower now. Bucky's more than handsome. That sassy attitude doesn't just piss Steve off, it also gets him going. Or it does now that he's thinking about it that way. 

_ It’s just hormones _ , he tells himself even though he knows deep, deep down that it isn't just that. Shit. He should have left Bucky in that cell. Bucky might have been better off. 

Steve has no fucking clue what he was thinking bringing Bucky home anyway. He hasn't had anyone at his house since… well, since his ma died when he was a teenager. It just really never occurred to him to bring outsiders to his home. He has friends, and has had lovers-- just never at his home. But now look at him. He's bringing a goddamn stranger home. 

For a few miles, they drive in peace. Or as much peace that Bucky's insistent tapping against the tops of his thighs can allow. "How far away do you live?" Bucky asks, throwing him a bewildered look. Steve can't blame him. They haven't passed any sign of civilization for a while now. 

"A bit further," he answers, not looking from the road. "I like my solitude. And my quiet." 

"Then why on earth are you bringing me there?" 

It startles Bucky when Steve laughs. He's surprised by the laugh, too, honestly. He's not a man without humor, unlike what he's sure Bucky believes about him, but there hasn't been much to laugh at today. 

They pull off the main road, but it's still two miles to the cabin. Two miles of thinking time. For Steve's part, it's spent on wondering what Bucky's running from. When Steve first met him yesterday, he'll admit his first reaction was a pleased groan when he came upon Bucky bent over the hood, his tight pants squeezing his backside quite admirably. Steve's a man and while his momma certainly instilled respect in him as true as the red blood that flows through his veins, Steve had nearly been brought down to his knees at the sight of Bucky's ass. The perfect size to be squeezed by Steve's hands. Bucky's got nice hair too, like the kind a rich boy from the city has; his soft curls long on top but shorter on the sides. Steve's wanted nothing more than to rake his fingers through Bucky's hair the very moment he saw it. And his scent.  _ Jesus _ , Bucky smells like fresh baked cookies, something sweet and enticing, beckoning for someone to return home. But as soon as Bucky started talking, Steve realized the situation was more chaotic and a hell of a lot more unrefined than the designer clothes on Bucky's body. 

Bucky speaks in circles. No, scratch that, Bucky speaks in crazy eights. Bucky's the kind of person that when you figure out what the hell he's talking about, you realize he's already changed the subject and you're behind again. It put Steve off long enough to purge his indecent thoughts— for all of two minutes. Then his thoughts got worse. Ways to keep that mouth busy topped Steve's brain, for sure. Then when Bucky started really speaking his mind, and Steve realized the boy was testing him for some reason, thoughts of leaving his handprints on Bucky's naked ass kept Steve uncomfortable in his work jeans. Yesterday Bucky had been trying to see how far he could push Steve, so the harder Bucjy tried to get him to crack, the more control Steve pushed back at him. 

Which, for future reference, drove Bucky batshit crazy. He didn’t like that Steve wasn’t someone he could manipulate. It wasn't hard for Steve to get the feeling that most people probably fall over their own feet trying to please him. Bucky just has that charm. 

So when Bucky was finally out of his hair, and Steve should have been relieved, Steve found he missed Bucky's mouth, his face, and even the attitude. 

_ Well, now I've got him,  _ the voice in Steve's head laughs. Sure he has Bucky, but now, he doesn't know what he's going to do with him. 

But at least he's got him. 

When Steve's cabin finally comes into view, he watches for Bucky's reaction. The car Steve dragged out of the ditch, Bucky's clothes, and just Bucky's general attitude show he's from money and probably a lot of it. Steve's cabin is probably smaller than his bathroom or some ridiculous shit like that. Bucky will probably make some jokes. Not sure why Steve cares, though. 

"I feel like I've just been transported to Little House On the Prairie," Bucky says, jumping down from the truck before Steve can get to his side. "If I call you Pa, will you call me Half-Pint?” he asks as Steve rounds the front. 

"You call me Daddy, and I'll call you anything you like," Steve chuckles. 

Bucky's eyes go round with shock, and Steve mentally kicks himself. He doesn't even know where that came from. 

But then Bucky starts laughing, clutching at his stomach with little eye wrinkles and all. "You-- You're kind of a-- a kinky old man, aren't you?" 

The important thing is that Bucky's not scared, he's just teasing Steve. It feels like a long time since he's been teased by anyone. 

Steve moves to open the front door. "You have no idea." He's keeping it light, is what he's doing. Steve's not that good at flirting. When he wants someone or just wants to have a quick fuck, he usually makes himself pretty clear. In the past, it's worked perfectly. Especially since he's avoided Omegas. Last thing he wants is an unwanted pregnancy with a stranger. 

He's tried dating but it's a miss more than a hit, only it's entirely Steve's fault. He's not a people person. The people he likes, he likes a lot. The rest he doesn't expend his energy on. 

Bucky takes in the front room of Steve's cabin with a huge smile on his face. "There are a lot of books in here." 

"I like to read," he says in return. He's always liked to read. Reading was his way of escape as a kid, when his mom was working all the shifts she could and the kids at school weren't exactly the nicest. He could always get lost in a book when real life got too hard. When he had to read by candlelight when the power was cut off. When he spent his first holidays alone after his ma was gone. 

Now, life is better. He still reads, but he spends holidays with friends, and he can pay his power bill. 

With a quick little tour, Bucky's surprisingly smitten with the house. Well, everything apart from Steve's upstairs office loft. 

"What in the world is happening in here?" Bucky asks in shock. 

"You've never seen paperwork before?" 

"Is this how you run your business?" Bucky's hands go on those delicate hips Steve would very much like to grasp, and he mimics Steve's pose from the courthouse. "How do you track your profitability if all your receipts are in messy piles?" 

Steve leans against the wall and wants to chuckle at Bucky's incredulous tone. "If money is in the bank, it's profitable. If it's not, it's been a bad month." 

"You have got to be kidding me." He starts rifling through Steve's piles. Steve should stop him. It's not Bucky's business what he makes or doesn't make. But Steve doesn't stop him. Instead Steve watches Bucky mutter to himself and say mean things about his ancient computer. "What kind of business software do you use?" 

"There's a spreadsheet." 

The look Bucky shoots him is almost murderous. "This is a crime scene." 

"What do you know about receipts and invoices?" Steve tries to lead Bucky back to the stairs, but he resists. 

"My father taught me a lot, actually. I'm good with numbers." His voice changes when he talks about his father, Steve realizes. He gets this sad, faraway look in his eyes, so Steve changes the subject. 

"Are you hungry?" he asks. 

"Fucking starving, actually. They tried to make me eat a bologna sandwich but I was generous enough to give it to someone else."

Steve can't help the smile that washes over his face as he imagines it. "Sounds delicious." 

Bucky shrugs. "Maybe. I wouldn't know." 

Finally Steve leads Bucky away from his disaster of an office and to the bathroom. "There's a clean robe on the hook and a towel in the cupboard. I don't have any fancy rich boy soap, but you can freshen up while I put together something that is hopefully more appetizing than prison food." 

Just as he turns to head to the kitchen, Bucky's reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Steve's wrist. He stops and turns back, concern instantly rushing through him. Bucky's not looking so perfect right now. His hair has lost some of its bounce and the circles under his eyes are more prominent than they were in the bright light outside.

Steve doesn't want to stop looking at him. Even in his state of duress, Bucky is easily the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Bucky whispers, his voice so fragile and soft that Steve can feel it deep into his soul. It's so clear that this beautiful boy has been through something horrible, making Steve want to wrap him up in his arms and never let go. He wants to wipe away some of that tension in Bucky's body and make him feel safe from whatever it is that he's running from. 

Steve swallows. "Maybe I like you, Bucky Barnes." 

Bucky snorts. "As if." 

"It's true," he insists. "I think you also deserve a break." 

Bucky's eyes well up and he nods his head in a silent thanks. He looks down at where they're touching and so many unknown pass across his face before he's looking back up at Steve. 

"Is it really Rogers?" 

"Steven Rogers, but everyone calls me Steve." 

Bucky smiles softly. "Thank you, Steve. I'm not usually so lost, I swear." 

Steve nods without an answer. When Bucky releases him, his skin still tingles. Truth is, Steve's not usually so found.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be MWF. 
> 
> Fingers crossed that I have the update ready for 'His Omega Son' done by tomorrow evening.

* * *

Bucky

* * *

The bathroom is small and very lumber chic, but it’s clean, and though it’s probably rude to take advantage, the hot water tank seems pretty big. Without ‘fancy rich boy soap’, Bucky’s left with a bar of green to use on his face, body, and hair. But squeaky-clean feels  _ lovely _ . 

The problem now is that with his immediate hygiene concern taken care of, Bucky’s brain has energy for going over his many, many problems. What is he going to do now? He has no access to his credit cards or the money in his account. His phone works, but it’s probably not safe to use. He’s got no wheels and no friends except for Steve who is actually very nice. 

Bucky pretends to not think about how Steve is so nice to look at, too, because that causes a whole new slew of other problems that he isn’t ready to deal with at the moment. Being attracted to his only source of kindness probably isn’t so helpful. And God, Steve’s so not his type. Bucky’s a boy who likes men in well-tailored suits and manicures, with shiny sports cars and decked out Rolexes on their wrists. 

Bucky likes  _ refinement _ . 

Or so the fuck he thought. 

Steve is a great big piece of man that leaves the ideal image of attraction in Bucky’s mind fading to dust. He  _ likes  _ Steve. A whole goddamn lot. The man could snap him in half and  _ shit _ , all that hair. Bucky’s never in his life been attracted to a man that has body hair, but with Steve, Bucky has this desperate need to see just how all that dark golden hair feels against his body. 

Two days ago, the thought would have grossed him out. Now, his fingers are practically trembling to touch. To caress. To slide through and stroke. 

_ Stop it, Bucky,  _ he reprimands himself. 

He finds some store brand lotion under the sink but it’s better than nothing. It’s goopy at the top like it hasn’t been used in a long time. Steve is low maintenance, it seems. Bless him, though, for the spare toothbrush that Bucky finds still in its package. 

When Bucky feels human again, he opens the bathroom door, and oh my god. Bacon. The man is cooking him bacon. Now, not only is Bucky unreasonably attracted to Steve, he wants to marry him. 

He follows his nose to the kitchen. “Are you my guardian angel, Mr. Rogers?” 

Steve turns slowly, but where Bucky’s come to expect a look of no patience, instead, Bucky gets a long inspection. A long, intense inspection. Steve’s eyes darken, and beneath the robe on Bucky’s body, he starts to feel all tingly. 

_ Stop it, stop it, stop it.  _

Steve breaks the awkwardness first by turning around to tend to the pan. “It’s just about ready. Have a seat.” 

"Can I help with anything?" 

Steve’s holding himself very rigidly. "No, I got it." 

Bucky sits at the bar and the plates that Steve serves is a literal meal for a king. Okay, it may just be eggs, bacon, toast, and juice, but it’s the best eggs, bacon, toast, and juice that Bucky’s ever had. 

"Do you want coffee?" he asks after Bucky’s made too many indecent moans around his fork. 

"Oh my God. I would do anything you ask for a cup of coffee,” Bucky practically groans. Their gazes catch, and his blush is fiery and strong, but Steve moves his eyes to Bucky’s lips. They linger for too many seconds to be considered an accident. Steve gets up quickly, almost knocking over his juice in his haste, and moves across the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. "So, you live here alone? Is there a girlfriend who isn't going to be pleased that you're harboring a known felon here today?" 

He’s fishing, obviously, but what else does he have to lose? 

Steve doesn't turn around but shakes his head. "No girlfriend." 

Bucky likes watching the way Steve moves around his space. It doesn't seem like he should be so graceful. His muscles bunch under his thin t-shirt, and Bucky’s a little too captivated. Steve’s forearms are thick and covered in that mouth watering golden hair. He’s also absolutely ripped. Like maybe he bench presses the cars after he pulls them out of ditches.

"You seem like a catch, Rogers. Why no lady friend?" 

The color of Steve’s face darkens when he looks at him, and Bucky thinks that it's a blush, which tickles him to no end. "I think we both know the answer to that.” His stare is intense, searing into Bucky. Saying words they won’t say out loud. Bucky’s drowning in Steve’s eyes. 

He doesn't want a lifeline. He just wants to stay there. 

Steve is gay, or at least bisexual. The world tumbles around him as he tries to make sense of this new information. Bucky could pretend he doesn’t know what Steve’s implying. But that would be immature. And although Bucky’s not known for being super mature or anything, he kind of feels like being an adult about this. 

“Okay. Why no special man friend then?” 

“Most people want a boyfriend who talks." 

Bucky raises a questioning brow. "You talk." 

Steve holds up the sugar bowl, which Bucky accepts. "Not much. Not with new people anyway." 

"I'm new people. You talk to me just fine." Bucky takes the cup Steve offers him and nearly suffocates it with sugar. "Lots of men like quiet guys. Then we don't have to fight for the spotlight." 

"You don't feel like new people." 

Bucky’s got the coffee mug to his lips, but he pauses there as Steve’s words connect inside his brain. Steve’s blinking at him like he can't believe he said that either. "You don't feel like new people to me either," Bucky admits and then takes a drink. The guy may skimp on bathroom products, but his coffee beans are top quality. "I know you don't usually bring your tow truck rescues home. I really appreciate everything you've done for me." 

Steve takes the stool next to Bucky again, his presence warm and safe. Bucky hasn't really felt safe in a while. Not since his dad died. But even as he feels safe, there's an undercurrent of energy that isn't about safety. A zing he’s never felt before. And he can only wonder if Steve feels it, too. 

"You seem like a very capable young man, Bucky, but something tells me you're in over your head. I'd like to help you." 

The clouds in his coffee don't offer him much in the way of answers, but he continues to stare into the cup. Bucky doesn’t feel capable. Not at all. But he doesn't think he can share his burden with Steve. He might try to help, and that's the last thing he needs to do. The guy Bucky’s stepdad owes money to is bad news. It's better that Steve just thinks he’s a flighty mess than try to step in and get involved. Bucky would never forgive himself if Steve got in too deep trying to save him. And Steve would, Bucky knows. 

Bucky tilts his head teasingly and pretends his life is the way it was a few years ago. The old Bucky. "I'm just your average spoiled brat from a McMansion neighborhood running away from his bratty problems, nothing for you to worry about." 

"You could go to jail for the car." 

Bucky shrugs and takes another drink of the coffee, before setting the mug down like he’d just done a shot. "I'm sure I can just buy my way out of it, right?" 

Steve’s up and spinning Bucky’s stool around until he’s caged between the mass of Steve’s body and the counter now behind him. "Wrong answer." 

Bucky’s heart rises in his throat. Steve’s so masculine it's  _ insane _ . A boy could climb him like a tree. A  _ testosterone  _ tree. 

"You don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine. I always bounce back better than ever." Bucky’s voice cracks, and Steve furrows his brow. 

"Talk." 

"And say what? What do you want to hear? I'm spoiled and a pain in the ass. I'm reaping what I've sown. Poor little rich boy." Steve’s staring at his mouth, and Bucky’s pulse kicks up. 

"I think that's what you want me to believe. But you're hiding something." 

"I'm not your problem, Rogers." 

"You don't trust me." 

At the moment, Bucky doesn't trust himself. Steve smells delicious and those hard muscles beneath his shirt make promises about what he's capable of. The strength he possesses. Bucky’d bet a boy in his arms wouldn't be afraid of anything ever again. But that's not for him, unfortunately. 

"I don't trust anyone,” he whispers. Not anymore. Not since his dad died and his mom brought Alexander Pierce into their lives. Not since she died shortly after that. Bucky swallows, before recomposing himself. "It was nice of you to cook for me. I'll do the dishes." 

There's a moment between them. Steve’s still too close; it's too intimate. But somehow, Steve’s not close enough. "You need to trust someone." If he would look away from Bucky’s eyes, Bucky might be able to think. Maybe. "You're in my house." He says it like that makes sense.

"Yes, Captain Obvious." The tic in Steve’s strong jaw is a work of art. 

"You're wearing my robe." Steve moves his head so they’d be cheek to cheek if they were an inch closer, and he inhales. "You smell like me." He pulls back and all that broody focus is trained on Bucky’s eyes now. “That means you’re mine and I can worry about you all I want. You can trust me.” 

And  _ oh _ , how much Bucky wants to. But is it truly that simple?

* * *

Steve

* * *

It’s evening now, and Steve’s wondering why he backed off Bucky in the kitchen earlier. It wasn’t what he wanted to do. Steve wanted to take him, right there, right then. Truth is, Steve wanted to mark him. Claim him.  _ Keep  _ him. But it wasn’t right. 

Bucky's got his demons that he's running from, and Steve's not a man who takes advantage of someone. Bucky might need him, but he doesn't need Steve pawing at him like an untamed beast until Bucky trusts him. It's probably presumptuous of Steve to think Bucky's even into him. Or men. But he is. He  _ so _ fucking is. 

Bucky looks so tiny in Steve's robe right now, curled into the corner of the couch and reading. If Steve didn't know better, he'd say Bucky's breakable. But he's got a spine of steel. 

Steve can recognize the haunted look in his grey eyes. Bucky's not the spoiled brat he shows the rest of the world. Well, he's definitely a brat, but spoiled Steve's not so sure of. He's got a rich boy background, but his life is harder than he lets on. Or it used to be. Until he met Steve. Now he's not alone. 

Steve lets that sink in. At first, it feels heavy, and then suddenly light and warm. The second he let go of the resistance of wanting Bucky, Steve feels free. There's no reason to fight it. It can't be stopped. New feelings inside him settle bone deep, and things clear up the way the sun eats the fog. 

Bucky's  _ his _ . His to protect. His to take care of. And it maybe seems too soon,  _ way _ too soon, but he also thinks Bucky's his to love. 

Steve never thought he'd feel this way. He's seen other guys fall. He's read books and seen movies, but he never believed it was something he was capable of. Life with his mom had never been easy, but once she died, he'd pretty much put his heart in the deep freezer. 

Until his annoying rich boy drove his Porsche Cayman GTS into a ditch. 

Shame, too. It was a really nice car. 

It sure as hell doesn't make any sense. Bucky's ten years younger than him. College educated. Used to guys in sports cars with trust funds. And Steve wants to throttle him nearly as often as he wants to kiss him. Steve didn’t even know him before yesterday. He should try to rationalize it all. Explain it. Make sense of it. It's not logical, he knows. It's  _ love _ . 

He gets up and boils some water for tea. The storm outside is getting worse. That usually means he'll get a call tonight. Already he doesn't want to leave him. What if Bucky needs him while he's gone? What if he takes off? 

"Whatcha doing in there?" Bucky's sitting up on his knees looking over at Steve from the back of the couch. Someday, he's going to bend him over that couch. Someday when Bucky trusts him. When he knows him. When he loves Steve back. 

"Making you tea. I'm hoping it will knock you out so you don't take off in the middle of the night if I get a roadside assistance call." 

"You make tea?” Adorably, Bucky wrinkles his brow like he’s trying to figure out an algebra problem in his head. “You going to roofie it?" 

"The thought crossed my mind." Steve pulls a mug down. "I'd rather just trust you." 

"I'd rather you didn't." Bucky shoots back. 

That's strange. Steve tilts his head. "Why don’t you want me to trust you?" 

"I don't want to disappoint you." 

Bucky's lost too much. It’s painted all over his face. Whatever forced him 'west' is going to answer to Steve someday. "You aren't going to disappoint me." 

Bucky shrugs and turns back around, opening his book and leaving Steve with more questions than insight again. He wishes he understood him better. He wishes Bucky would let him in. But as a well-known recluse, Steve understands Bucky's barriers. 

Steve's just handing him the tea when the pager goes off. 

"You have a beeper?" Bucky asks. "That's very...retro." 

"It's issued by the roadside assistance company." Steve takes the call, gets the details, and gives Bucky the once-over. "Lines are down all over the place. I don't have to explain to you how dangerous it would be for you to take off on your own tonight, do I?" 

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, and it's sexy as hell. "I don't really want to wander around the woods at night during a storm. I left my hiking boots in the trunk of my car." 

“Do you even own hiking boots?” 

“No, not really.” 

"I don't want you to go, Bucky. It's dangerous out there. You don't know the terrain, and bad things could happen to you before I even knew you were gone." 

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but Steve interrupts his interruption. "I can't keep you here if you don't want to stay. I want you to want to stay." Steve points to the hooks near the door where all his keys are hanging. "If you run, don't go on foot. Steal my car. It's in the left bay of the garage outside. Keys are on the wall and marked." 

Bucky's eyes get real big. "You're giving me the keys to my escape?" 

"No, I'm showing you where they are and hoping you don't use them. I'm hoping you'll be passed out and snoring when I get back, safe in bed and drooling on my pillows. But if you need to endanger yourself, I'd rather have you endangered in a vehicle than on foot." 

"I kinda thought you would just tie me up or something." 

"You wish," he murmurs, watching the blush that paints Bucky's cheeks and creeps down his neck. Steve wants nothing more than to pull open his robe and see how low that blush reaches. Instead, Steve leans forward and kisses Bucky's forehead. "Stay," he whispers and hopes it's enough.

———

Hours later, wet, tired, and grumpy, Steve opens the cabin door and finds Bucky sound asleep on his couch. 

Steve exhales the breath he's been holding since he left him. Bucky's still safe. Steve's drawn to Bucky like the brunet is feeling him in on his fishing line. 

He leans forward and presses another kiss to Bucky's forehead. Where all these tender feelings are from, Steve doesn't know. He's never felt like this before. 

As he pulls back, Bucky blinks his eyes open. He frowns for a second as he comes to, then he's throwing his thin arms around Steve's neck. "You're home," Bucky whispers. He's sleep-warmed and relaxed, perfectly so soft and gentle. And then Bucky's kissing him. 

Steve doesn't think either of them expected it. 

Bucky's lips are amazing. Steve tries just sipping at his sweetness, but Steve wants more. Steve  _ needs _ Bucky's softness. He clutches the brunet hard and Bucky swings into him like they've been kissing for years instead of barely knowing each other. He angles his head, and Steve deepens the kiss. Steve wants in Bucky's mouth, in his body. 

Bucky pulls back, confused perhaps. Maybe he was sleep-kissing, but Steve doesn't think so. "You're soaking wet," he says. He’s not accusing Steve of accosting him in his sleep. That’s a good sign. 

"Yeah. Raining. Outside." This boy has made complete sentences a challenge. 

Bucky bites his lip, which Steve finds adorable. He's not usually a guy who uses the word adorable. "I should be ashamed of myself. I totally just attacked you, didn't I?" 

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "You want to do it again?" 

Bucky nods and tightens his hold on Steve as he dives back in for another kiss. Steve picks him up easily, only to settle then back onto the couch with Bucky on his lap. He's desperately trying to keep this light. To keep them in this sweet spot to savor, but with each pass, Steve's hands grasp Bucky tighter, his mouth pushing harder. Steve's feeling his heartbeat in his goddamn cock when Bucky opens his mouth and moans as Steve's tongue accepts his invitation inside. 

Bucky's fingers tunnel through Steve's hair, and he rocks his hips, grinding them together. The robe is gaping in the front, and Steve catches a glimpse of Bucky's nipples, dusty and pink, and his smooth chest. Steve's lost. He can't stop his hand as it reaches in to palm Bucky's pecs while his other one grasps the back of Bucky's neck and holds him still so he can explore Bucky's mouth. 

Bucky's skin is so smooth beneath his callused hands. Steve feels like a hulking beast let loose in a store of fine, expensive china. He doesn't want to hurt Bucky or scare him. Steve's sure his college boys don't maul him so roughly, but when Steve pinches Bucky's nipple, Bucky throws his head back and lets out the hottest sound Steve's ever heard. 

With Bucky's neck arched that way, Steve takes advantage and kisses his way down. Bucky's amazing in his abandon. Steve doesn't deserve this stolen moment, but he takes it. He ravishes Bucky's unblemished skin, marking it red with his beard and teeth. 

"Oh my God," he cries. As much as Steve loves his neck, he wants back in Bucky's mouth. Steve sucks his tongue, and then he thrusts into Bucky like he's fucking him. Like he's  _ going _ to fuck him. Bucky's like holding fire, his flames hot and bright. His passion consumes Steve, and Steve burns with a lust he's never felt before. 

Steve pushes the robe off Bucky's shoulder, exposing more of his body for only his eyes to see. "You're perfect." 

He pulls back enough to get Bucky in a better position to dip his head and pull one of Bucky's nipples into his mouth. 

But that's when Steve notices the bruises.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Bucky

* * *

Nobody has ever made him feel like this before. He’s never been able to just let go, lose himself. Bucky’s not even sure how they got here. He fell asleep worrying about Steve in the storm, and when Bucky woke up and Steve was right there, so handsome and so close, Bucky gave in to his instincts. 

Turns out his instincts fucking  _ rock _ . 

"Who did this to you?" Steve asks. 

"Huh?" Bucky’s mad that Steve is pulling him out of his fantasy and back into his head. What is Steve talking about? "Did what?" 

Steve presses the lightest of kisses to his arm where angry purple bruises have formed.  _ Damn _ . Bucky had almost (not quite) forgotten about those. 

"It's not important,” he tries, shrugging off Steve’s concern. But Steve’s gaze gets all dark and intense, turning Bucky’s brain into total mush. 

"The fuck it's not." 

Mood broken, Bucky pulls the robe back on and covers himself. This is not a conversation he wants to have, much less have while he’s exposed. He shakes his head. "The storm sounds like it’s getting worse,” he says, trying to straighten up and avoid this talk entirely. 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” 

"You’re trying to distract me," Steve says and he has that look on his face like he’s totally not falling for Bucky’s bullshit. “And doing that annoys the hell out of me. I’m asking you a question and I want you to answer it, Buck.” 

Buck.  _ Buck _ . No one has ever called him that and  _ fuck  _ does it do things to him. But dammit, he’s still mad. Or upset. Or whatever. He pushes against Steve so that he can get up. “All I have to do is breathe to annoy you anyway,” he says. He tries to look to the side, anywhere but those devastating blue eyes, but Steve is quick to reach for his jaw, holding him still. Bucky expects the touch to hurt but he barely feels a thing. 

“Who put their hands on you?" 

_ Ignore _ . 

_ Distract _ . 

"I didn't want to dig around your dresser while you weren't here, but I was hoping you maybe had some more clothes I could borrow. This robe is..." 

"Is it who you're running from? Is that why you don't want to go home?" 

"Just a t-shirt and maybe some boxers would be fine." 

" _ Bucky _ . Someone grabbed you hard enough to leave bruises on your arm. Tell me their name, and I will find them. I’ll make them regret ever laying a finger on you." 

Bucky gasps at Steve’s sudden propensity for violence. Despite his size and his grumpy attitude, Steve has been nothing but a gentle giant in his presence. "It's nothing for you to worry about,” Bucky says eventually. They stare at each other for too long, Steve trying to pierce Bucky’s brain and get his secrets while Bucky frantically tries to build a wall. The less Steve knows, the better. "I'm sorry I kissed you." 

That makes Steve blink. And then he gets this look that is equal parts disappointed and hurt. So he gets up. 

"Steve—" 

Steve holds his hand up to stop him from talking and silently walks away. Bucky covers his face with his hands.  _ God _ , why does he screw up everything? A normal man could probably have turned that whole thing around and had Steve inside him by now. Instead, Bucky’s alone again. Because he pushed Steve away. He deserves this. All Steve has been is nice to him and he totally fucked it all up.

Bucky feels the weight of a large hand on his leg, and he uncovers his face. Steve’s on his knees on the floor in front of him. His eyes are the brightest, most open pair of blue eyes and they’re so full of concern that Bucky doesn’t deserve. “Steve, I’m—" 

"You're not alone anymore." He picks up Bucky’s hand. Bucky doesn’t have baby hands, but compared to Steve’s huge hands, his are small. "I know you don't trust that yet. And I shouldn't get frustrated with you. It's going to take time. But you'll see. You'll look back someday and see how every memory we share from here on out is me not letting you down, and then you'll believe. I can be patient." 

Bucky’s stunned. He doesn't know what to say or think or feel. He can’t process what Steve’s saying, it’s too much. But the feeling of not having to face everything alone for once... 

Thunder rumbles in the distance. 

"Why don't you want to go home, Bucky?" 

"My stepdad." 

"What did he do to you?" 

What did Alex do? What did he  _ not  _ do, is more like it. Too many little things, then big things, and all the stuff in between. "It's not what you think,” Bucky whispers. 

"Then tell me." 

Maybe it’s worse than he thinks. 

Bucky takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as the air fills his lungs. When he reopens them, he’s not surprised to find Steve still there. “My mom met Alex after my dad died three years ago. I pretty much thought he was a sleazeball, but she really liked him,” he shrugs, remembering how it was in the beginning. “He was always nice to her. Like, really nice. So, I guess I just thought maybe any guy that wasn’t my dad was no good, and I tried to get along with him. For a while anyway.” 

“You were close with your dad?” 

Bucky nods. “Very. He was my hero.” A pang of longing pierces his heart, doubling Bucky over. God, he wishes his dad was still here. He’d have known the right thing to do. He always did the right thing. But then, if he hadn’t died, Bucky wouldn’t be in this mess, either. Steve is still on his knees on the floor in front of him, watching Bucky so closely. “Alexander lost all my dad’s money pretty quickly. I think he used the bulk of it right away to get himself out of debt. I still have plenty set aside in a trust fund, I think, unless he found a way to access it. But I can’t get to it until I’m twenty-five. People started coming to the house. Taking things away. My mom...she didn’t handle it well. First losing my dad and then losing her wealth. She was kind of fragile.” 

“Was?” Steve asks softly.

Bucky’s whole body gets cold. “She started taking pills. Alexander found her this strange doctor who got her whatever she wanted whether she needed it or not. And about a year ago, she was gone, too.” 

“Gone?” 

“She died. Overdose.” His hands are trembling, so Steve takes them both in his, giving Bucky comfort. It’s been a long time since he’s felt comfort. “I blame Alex. I wanted her in rehab, but he just kept bringing that stupid doctor around until I was an orphan.” Of course Bucky was sad when she died, but it was hard to mourn the shell of the person she’d become. His mother, the woman he loved, had been dying since the day she met Alexander Pierce. “Alex managed to get everything that my father owned into his name by then. Everything except for my trust fund. We had a fight. He knew I thought he was a loser, and he hated that. He’s a real Alpha man, doesn’t like that I didn’t fall at his feet.” 

And oh, how Alex wanted people to fall down to his every beckoning. The man was so full of himself that Bucky had always been so surprised he hadn’t imploded on himself. There’d never been a day that Alex wasn’t in some designer three-piece suit or one of Bucky’s dad’s Rolex’s on his wrists. 

But that was all superficial stuff. Money. The thing that made the world go round. Sure it stung that all of his father’s life work had been taken by Alex, but it was things that Bucky could get over. Until the problems escalated and weren’t so easily forgiven. 

“Eventually things got worse,” Bucky continues on, biting into his lip. “Alex ruined me from the inside out. Fucked up my relationships with the few friends I had. Tried to interfere with my grades at campus. Alex did everything that he could. He knew of my biological disposition but… but somehow he found out I’m a virgin. The only way he could know is if my mom told him, or maybe my doctor, but I didn’t hang around to find out. Not sure I want to know, either.” 

Slowly, Bucky can see the dread of realization sink in on Steve’s face. A virgin omega is like hitting the lottery in today’s world, something Alpha’s would do anything and everything to claim for themselves. It’s sick but there’s always sins in the world. 

In a voice so soft, Steve asks, “What happened when he found out?” 

Bucky’s fingers dig into his thighs, his chews the inside of his cheek. He wants to run and hide, but he wants Steve there with him. He meets Steve’s waiting gaze. “Alex… sold me.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide. The air suddenly cackles with energy. “ _ He what _ ?” 

“There’s a market,” he manages to say, squeezing his eyes closed and hoping it will make saying the words easier. It doesn’t. “I managed to sneak into his office a few weeks back and saw the receipts and website on his computer. My pictures were there. All on this website. From when I was a toddler all the way up to the most current. I figured my baby pictures were there for reference if… if someone wanted to know what my babies would possibly look like.” He couldn’t imagine a fate worse than being knotted by a stranger, other than being forced to have the stranger’s children. Breeding is sacred more than anything and to think of the poor individuals who had been subjected to that fate… it was horrifying. He squeezed Steve’s hands. “I don’t know who he sold me to, but from the price tag the website said, I knew it couldn’t be good. He kept telling me that nobody cared about me anymore anyways, because I had no one left. I tried to run, but he grabbed me.” 

Bucky shivers, remembering how angry Alex was. He’d been livid that Bucky didn’t want anything to do with him or staying under his rule. Alex had been so desperate for the five million dollar price tag that he’d pinned above Bucky’s head. “He called that doctor, the one who turned my mom into a vegetable, and locked me in his office until he could get there.” Bucky rubs his arm where the bruises are still tender. “I didn’t go willingly, of course. But it was then that I saw that I’d been sold. There had been bids… and I went to the highest price. Eight point four million dollars.” 

The color has already steadily faded from Steve’s face, but it’s then that he loses all color. “Bucky…” 

Bucky swallows, scared for what Steve might say. “So while I was in his office, I moved a bit of money around, tried to access my trust, but couldn’t. I found the keys to my car and…” he let his voice die out, shrugging because it had all led up to this moment. 

“You escaped.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. “I escaped.”

Steve’s big hand, so gentle yet capable of so much, cups Bucky’s cheek. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I know.” Which of course sets Bucky into fighting off tears. “He’ll never hurt you again. I promise. You are not alone.”

He’s been so alone for so long, he’s not even sure how to feel. Grateful seems like a tame word. But Bucky also feels responsible. He doesn't want Steve dredged into his crazy world. Steve’s got this great, quiet life of no drama, and Bucky’s just come barreling through like the Kool-Aid man going through a wall. 

“He isolated you for too long,” Steve says. “You’re like a plant that needs sun.” A dandelion maybe, or Bucky’s favorite, a sunflower. Bucky smiles slightly, imagining it. “Well, at least now I understand what was west,” he says. 

“What was west?” Bucky asks. Because he has no idea what he was heading to other than away. 

“Me.”

* * *

Steve

* * *

Bucky’s not sure of him yet. And that’s fine. Steve can be patient. Besides, he needs Bucky to choose him anyway. The boy’s been manipulated enough. 

He feels drained, both mentally and physically, with the load that Bucky has just told him. Steve had figured it was bad but this… he hadn’t realized it was of this magnitude. “We can tackle all of this tomorrow,” he says eventually. “We need sleep.” 

Bucky eyes him warily. “No comments on my fucked up circumstances? My virginity?” 

“Not tonight,” he repeats. 

Bucky nods slowly. “Okay… okay. I’ll sleep here on the couch.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, you’ll take my bed.” Something hums in his brain at the thought of Bucky in his sheets. He wants his pillows to smell like Bucky. 

The brunet looks at the couch dubiously. “I can’t do that, Steve. You’ve done enough for me. I”ll be out of your hair tomorrow.” 

Steve hopes Bucky can see in his eyes that that will not be happening. He doesn't want to say it outright though, not wanting to scare Bucky. "I won't ever lock you up. Not like he did. I swear.” 

“I know that.” 

“But you’re stuck with me," he says, smiling just the tiniest bit to put Bucky at ease. The brunt doesn’t look scared but he does look sad. 

“Steve, I think the guy he sold me to is some kind of mob guy. Or at least someone with a lot of power and wealth. Who else has that much money laying around just to buy—" Bucky cuts himself off, shaking his head. "I can’t bring you into this.” 

“I’m already in this.” 

“If anything happened to you because of me...” 

“Do I look like I’m afraid?” 

Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re afraid of anything.” 

“That’s not true. I’m afraid you won’t trust me to help you. I’m afraid you’re going to head west again the minute I let my guard down.” God help him if Bucky does. 

“You can’t possibly be this selfless. And if it’s just sex you want, I can’t believe there aren’t a lot of easier ways for you to get it. Why are you so eager to jump into my problems and help me? A normal person would wish me well and send me away.”

“First of all, I’m not doing this to get in your pants.” Bucky frowns. “Buck, if I was just after getting my dick slicked, we both know you wouldn’t be a virgin anymore.” Those grey eyes get all wide and round, then narrow into slits. “You and I both know you want it too.” 

Before Bucky can let his spitfire attitude rise to the top, Steve goes on, “Yeah, I said it. And I’ll say worse and what’s more, you’re going to like it. I’m a filthy sonofabitch.” 

Bucky's just blinking rapidly, and Steve is dumbfounded, not believing he just found the boy's mute button. He files that away for later. 

“You were rubbing on my dick earlier, and we both know it wouldn’t have taken much to convince you to ride it all the way. It’s more than sex between us, and you know that, too. It has been since the minute you opened that sassy mouth of yours. Maybe we don’t make sense to the rest of the world, but I’m not worried about them right now. I’m only worried about you. So, yeah, we’re gonna fuck. But not yet and that’s not what’s keeping us here.” 

Slowly, Bucky shakes his head, his eyebrows high on his forehead. But his pretty lips are curled, smiling oh so gently. “Okay, caveman. What makes you think you’re going to be the one to take my virginity?”

“I’m not taking anything," Steve is quick to correct him. "You’re going to give it to me. When you’re ready. Nobody makes that decision but you.” He stands and pulls Bucky up. “I’m going to steal your fucking heart, Bucky Barnes. You can be damned sure about that.” 

The smile on Bucky's face is full blown now, yet somehow, he still manages to roll his eyes. “You’re awfully cocky. Where do you get all that confidence from?” He holds up one hand. “And don’t go for the easy joke about being cocky, please.” Steve raises his eyebrows. “I know exactly how much you’re packing.” Bucky blushes, and they both seem to remember him grinding on Steve's cock not that long ago. “But, seriously. You met me yesterday, and I’m a hot mess of daddy issues and a felon. Why on earth are you interested in pursuing this?” 

He takes that hand Bucky's holding up and kisses the palm before placing it over his heart. “I have no fucking idea.” Bucky snorts and then starts laughing and it’s the best sound. Well, Steve supposed he likes all of Bucky's sounds. But his laughter is easily in the top five. “C’mon, sweetheart. You need a good night’s sleep.”

“They’re going to be looking for me. Alex is going to know I couldn’t get far when he comes to retrieve the car. And— and if whoever bought me can’t get the money back from Alex, he’s going to come for me.” 

Steve shakes his head, choosing to wrap Bucky up in his arms instead. “That’s a tomorrow problem.” He leads Bucky to his bed and pulls the covers back before turning to the dresser to get him the requested t-shirt and underwear he asked for earlier. 

“What’s a tonight problem, then?” Bucky asks, twirling his fingers in a gesture, so Steve turns around while he dresses. Knowing Bucky's bare behind him is really killing him though. 

“Tonight’s problem is how I'm going to fucking sleep knowing you’re in my bed.”

“You can turn around.” Bucky is in his bed, the sheets up around his chin. It’s almost perfect. Since Steve won’t be getting in it with him, it’s not quite. But he likes Bucky in his bed. A lot. 

“You have such a dirty mouth, Rogers. I feel like I should be clutching my pearls around you.” 

Steve chuckles, low and deep. “I like making you blush. I’m going to say a whole lot worse, I promise. Good thing you like dirty talk.” 

“How do I know what I like? I’m a virgin, remember?” 

His cock is like a steel pipe in his pants right now. Fuck. A  _ virgin _ . Steve's going to be the first and last lover Bucky ever has. But not tonight. 

“You were grinding on my cock like a man who knows what he likes. We’re going to be really good together.” Steve kisses his forehead. Again. He likes the way it makes him feel, though. He likes treating Bucky tender. He's also gonna like treating him rough, too. “Goodnight, Buck.” 

Steve turns to leave but once again, Bucky grabs his arm. “Wait. We could share the bed. I think I could roll over two or three times without getting to the other side. There’s plenty of room.” 

His cock aches. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.” 

Bucky bites his lip again, but this time it’s not adorable. He’s clearly scared and Steve feels something strong rush through him, something that demands he protect Bucky at all costs “Please stay with me," Bucky whispers.

And how could Steve possibly say no? “Okay," he agrees. "But no hanky-panky. I don’t want to wake up to find you jumping me while I’m asleep.” 

“Did you just say hanky-panky? Like for real?” 

Steve just smiles and grabs some sweats to sleep in, changing in the bathroom. It’s going to be a long fucking night, knowing he’s so close but Steve can’t touch him. 

Not yet, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your kind words are just so perfectly wonderful! Seriously, my heart is exploding ❤️


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Bucky

* * *

He’s been living with Steve for a few days now. They’ve been in this weird holding pattern, like pleasant roommates most of the time until Steve looks at him a certain way, his eyes all dark and Bucky instantly feels like a lovestruck fool. 

It’s not normal. It can’t be. 

Bucky’s never felt like this before. Never been so aroused and constantly in the needy stage of  _ wanting _ . And he thinks that Steve can tell. The way Steve touches him so softly when the man passes him. The way Steve looks into his eyes when Bucky’s talking, like he’s really listening to what Bucky has to say. 

With each passing hour, Bucky’s falling for him.  _ Hard _ . He’s trusting him. Wanting Steve in all the ways he shouldn’t. 

Currently, Bucky’s wearing clothes that Steve bought for him from some local business store. Eating food that Steve bought for him because Bucky has no money. Bucky’s contributing very little to the cause and he hates it. 

Which explains why he’s currently stirring a pot of chili that doesn’t… look right. He’s always excelled at microwave food but the rest, not so much. But he wanted to do something. To try and show a smidge of his appreciation. Chili sounded easy. 

Naturally, chili lies. 

The sound of tires on gravel makes his heart skip a couple of beats and he looks out the window, spotting the familiar shape of Steve climbing down from his truck. 

Bucky meets him at the door. 

“Come with me,” Bucky says as soon as Steve is crossing the threshold. He grabs ahold of Steve’s hand and drags him over to the loft stairs. “Don’t be mad, okay?” 

“Hello to you, too,” Steve says amusedly, before the words Bucky said actually catch up to him. “Wait. What did you do, Bucky?” 

Bucky grins mischievously, entering the office space. “I was bored. You leave me alone for really long periods of time, Steve.” He takes a deep breath and continues so Steve won’t. “And don’t say something sensible like ‘I have to go to work’. I get that. I do. But I want to contribute. So, don’t be mad.”

“What is that smell?” 

Bucky takes a quick whiff. “Chili.” 

“You made chili in my office?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I made chili in your kitchen. I did  _ this  _ in your office.” Bucky leads Steve to his now clear desk, spreading his arms out wide and showing off his masterpiece to the big beefy blond.

“Where’s all my stuff?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I filed it, dummy. You can’t run an efficient business if you don’t know where anything is.” 

“I don’t know where anything is now. You moved it all.” 

Bucky glides across the room and opens a file cabinet. “There are these amazing things called files. You can put paper in them after you input the information to an ancient spreadsheet.” 

“You did my bookkeeping for me?”

He bites into his cheek. “I know I overstepped. And I’m sorry  _ not  _ sorry about it. It’s just that you’ve been doing all these things for me and I’ve done exactly nothing in return and I’m good at business and finances, so I thought—” 

Steve stops him with a kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you?” Bucky repeats, his brain scrambling for purchase. 

“I hate bookkeeping.” 

Bucky snorts. “I couldn’t tell.” He gets another kiss. “So, you’re not mad?” 

“I’m not mad—” 

The smoke alarm interrupts Steve with a horrible scream. 

“ _ Shit _ . Shit, shit, shit. That’s probably the chili.” 

They rush downstairs into the smoky kitchen. Nothing is on fire, thankfully, but the soup pot is scorched and dinner isn’t salvageable. Steve doesn’t get mad about that either. Well, Steve’s not like jumping for joy or anything but he’s so even-tempered. After the last three years of Alexander and his rollercoaster of emotions, Bucky forgot what it’s like to be around a man who can control his temper. A  _ real  _ man. And honestly, even at his most aggravated, all Steve has done is frown strongly at him. 

Bucky gets that tingly feeling in his gut when he looks at Steve frantically waving a towel below the smoke detector. He must sense Bucky’s gaze, however, because he stops and turns back to stare at him. “What?” 

Bucky doesn’t know the words. He just… needs Steve. His feet are moving, propelling him toward Steve, and like a teenager, Bucky jumps him. 

“Burnt chili turn you on, baby doll?” Steve asks before Bucky’s mouth crashes into him. He likes the way Steve’s body is hard everywhere, like he’s granite under his skin. Bucky likes the way he walks them into the wall near the living room while Steve utterly devours him. “Fuck. You taste so good.” 

Steve pushes into him, his cock hard and pressing into Bucky’s belly. He thinks Steve’s hard enough to push through all of their clothes. Bucky writhes against him, needing friction. Needing  _ Steve _ . 

The world spins and suddenly Bucky’s on the couch. They’re pulling each other’s shirts off, desperate for more skin. Bucky can’t get enough of him. He lays down, pulling Steve on top of him. The weight of Steve’s hard chest is heavy. Steve’s pushing Bucky down while he’s also pulling up feelings and sensations that are new, yet instinctual. 

Bucky wants so,  _ so much _ , yet a sudden trickle of ice darts down his spine and he freezes up like one of the bad motors in Steve’s garage. He doesn’t stay stop, but Steve is so in tune with Bucky’s body enough to feel the change. Hell, for all he knows, maybe his body feels as cold on the outside as it does on the inside. 

Steve pulls back. “Hey, hey. What is it, sweetheart?” 

Bucky clenches his jaw. “Nothing.” He doesn’t know. Why doesn’t he know? Why can’t he let go? 

Steve’s brows furrow angrily, and Bucky recoils. Oh God, he’s finally pushed Steve’s last button, hasn’t he? Who could blame him? Bucky braces himself for the yelling. If Steve’s anything like Alexander, then maybe he should expect the blows, too. 

“Easy, Buck, easy.” Steve rolls off of him gently, pulls him up before patting him gently. “You know I’d never hurt you.” 

“You’re mad. I’ve made you mad.” 

Raw shock changes Steve’s expression. “No, baby. I’m not mad at you. Never at you. I’m frustrated that you’re keeping something from me. Something is wrong. I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me what it is. I’m mad that someone made you feel like you can’t be honest. That someone made you scared that if my mood darkens, you automatically think it’s your fault or that I would ever take it out on you.” 

“You have every right to be mad that I led you on this far and then stopped.”

“Bucky, look at me.” 

He doesn’t want to. He wants to put on more clothes. All the clothes that he can find would be nice. He needs to cover everything that’s exposed. Bucky doesn’t want it out there, but he can feel the weight of Steve’s stare on him, imploring him to give Steve what he needs from him. So he gathers up all the courage he can, and meets Steve’s awaiting gaze. 

“You’re an Alpha,” Bucky whispers. 

Steve’s face is so calm. He’s just so grounding and centering to Bucky. Slowly, Steve nods. “I am an Alpha. But I’m also a man. A  _ real  _ man. I don’t take something that isn’t freely given. If you aren’t ready to lay with me, that’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll wait. That’s what real men do. I might try my best to seduce you into getting ready for it, but I would never--  _ never--  _ be mad at you for needing more time. Okay? I want you to know that, baby.” 

Steve  _ is  _ a real man, there’s no denying that. Not like Alexander. Steve’s patient and protective. He’s virile and masculine, but he’s always in control of himself. Of the situation. Steve’s safe. Bucky knows it deep inside, but he’s still wary. Steve’s an  _ Alpha _ . 

“Steve, you make me really want to be ready,” he says quietly, reaching down to take one of Steve’s hands between his own and squeezing. “I want you. I really do. I’m not even sure what stopped me and I’m sorry that I’m so messed up in my head. I… I’ve just felt trapped for so long that I’m afraid of giving you the last bit of control or something.” 

“You’ve had to protect yourself for too long. And that man tried to break you, but he never did. And he never will, Buck. You’re strong, sweetheart. You can trust yourself.” 

Bucky’s heart is cracking into a million pieces right now. This gentle giant next to him could do anything he wants to Bucky, but what he wants is for Bucky to give himself freely. “I don’t know how to get over this feeling. If I ever will. I kind of want you to just overpower me and take me.” 

Steve uses both of his over-sized hands and grabs onto him. “Someday, we’ll do that. I’ll fuck myself into you and you’ll take it. You’ll beg for more. But not yet.” 

Bucky’s cock perks up at Steve’s rough, sexy words. But Steve’s holding his hands so gently, and his tone is so even. Like Bucky’s a scared stray he’s trying to take in for Bucky’s own good. 

“What if I’m never there? What if I’m permanently damaged?” 

“You’re not.” 

“But what if I am?” 

The words sit heavily between them. Bucky looks desperately toward Steve for answers, his eyes wide and pleading while Steve gives him all the silent reassurement that he can. Steve’s gaze sears into him, scouring over his face. Until he breaks the silence. “I have an idea.” 

Steve pulls him up to his feet and leads Bucky to the bedroom. Steve opens his dresser and pulls out a few neckties. 

Bucky’s heart inches up his throat. He tries for humor first. “When was the last time you wore a necktie? Why do you even have neckties?” 

Steve laughs. “I haven’t ever worn these. Every year dear old Miss Peggy Carter gives me a tie for my birthday. I think it started when she was hoping I’d date her niece.” 

Yeah, okay, the little flash of red that covers Bucky’s vision is cliché, but that’s what it feels like. He’s never been jealous before. “Oh really?” he asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Relax, baby. Her niece and I never dated, and she’s long since married. It took her aunt a while to figure out I was gay, but Peggy still gives me a tie for my birthday. I have a drawer of them.” 

Bucky’s coming down from his irrational anger but coasting right back into his irrational fear about what Steve plans to do with the neckties. “I don’t know about this idea of yours. I think tying me up might make it worse.” Surely, Steve won’t try to convince him otherwise. Bucky can’t even swallow. 

“They’re not for you.” 

Oh. 

_ Oohhh _ . 

“Wait, you want me to tie you up?” Bucky’s eyes get wide. 

Steve steps into his space. This mountain of a man with no shirt, barefoot, and the top button of his jeans undone. Holy fuck, he’s so hot. So goddamn beautiful. Bucky’s muscles loosen, and he inhales deeply, the strong scent of Alpha hitting him, but something more too, something entirely Steve.

Then, Steve hands him the neckties. “I’m going to lay on the bed, Buck. And you are going to tie my wrists to the bedposts.” 

“And then?” 

“And then anything you want. I am at your mercy. You can touch me anywhere. Do anything you want. Or nothing at all. It’s all up to you.” 

“Are you serious right now? I feel like you just gave me a plate and pointed me to a buffet. Anything?” 

“Anything.” Steve says firmly, nodding his head and shooting that devastating grin at him. 

Steve’s giving him his trust. Bucky can only wonder if he can give Steve his own. 

“What if...what if I want to stop? You won’t get mad?” Bucky asks, clenching the fabric in his hand. 

“This is all for you. All about you. It’s not my buffet.” Steve leans down, his breath right next to Bucky’s ear and causing the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. “Someday soon, you’re going to be my buffet. And I’m a hungry, hungry man. When you’re ready, I plan to feast on you for hours.” Steve stands up straight as Bucky’s knees turn to jelly. “When you’re ready.” 

“Hours?” Bucky practically squeaks. 

“Has anyone ever eaten your ass?” 

God, one would think that he’d be used to Steve’s dirty words already. But no. He says ass and Bucky’s hole quivers. “No. Nobody has ever...touched me there.” 

“Anyone ever sucked your cock?” 

“No.” Bucky’s blushing fiercely, feels the heat all in his face and shooting down his neck. “Nobody has ever sucked my...” 

“Say cock.” 

Bucky’s nose scrunches up. “I don’t think I can. Not out loud.”

Steve’s blue eyes have crinkles in the corners when he smirks at Bucky. When a gargantuan man has pretty eyes with crinkles, a boy starts losing his inhibitions. “You’re a felon who’s done time in jail. You can say cock.” 

Bucky bites into his lip, and Steve grunts. The kind of grunt that cavemen might use. He wants to hear it again. “No one has ever sucked my cock. No one has even touched it.” He likes the way Steve’s eyes darken. “No one but me, anyway.” 

He grunts again, and Bucky feels downright powerful. “Oh fuck, baby. That’s hot...you touching yourself. You better tie me up now.” 

Bucky may have the ties, but he has no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do with them. He looks down at the accessories, before finding Steve’s eyes again. “I’m not exactly well-versed in knots.” 

“You will be.” 

Bucky inhales sharply. He never thought he would allow himself to be knotted but now… well…  _ fuck _ . It seems so intimate. So raw and primitive. Something not everyone can even experience. Alphas only knot with omegas. And the knot… the knot is how they impregnate omegas like Bucky. Only omegas can be bred, and can carry babies. From the stories he’s heard, it’s the best feeling in the world, for both partners. And it locks them together right before the Alpha comes—keeping them that way for a while. It always sounded kind of scary to him. Almost claustrophobic. Especially for those hours he thought he might not have a choice. But the idea of being one with Steve isn’t scary. It’s sexy and beautiful and… and Bucky  _ wants  _ it. 

Steve makes some complicated loopy things and puts them on the bedposts. Then he lays down in the middle of the bed. “Come here and tighten these up.” 

Bucky wants to look at him first. Steve’s massive, sprawled out like a man with no worries. Even giving Bucky control of his current destiny doesn’t take that ease from his features. Bucky wants that. He wants to just be able to rest and know that life is going to be just fine. And the first step in doing that is right in front of him. Tonight, he can just be. 

Bucky crawls up the bed and straddles Steve, enjoying the surprise lighting his eyes. He leans over and tightens the ties, noting Steve’s eyes are entirely focused on his face, watching him. Gauging Bucky to make sure he’s okay. 

Bucky’s way more than okay. 

He leans back on his haunches, resting on Steve’s rock-hard stomach. “Anything I want?” Bucky asks gently, cocking his head. 

“My body is yours.” 

_ Mine _ , Bucky’s mind purrs. Steve’s body is  _ his _ . Bucky can do anything, explore anywhere. He has all the control here. 

He starts with Steve’s scalp, running his fingers through Steve’s thick, blond hair. It’s soft, silky. It feels  _ so  _ good to be close to someone. To Steve, specifically. It unlocks something inside him when Steve’s eyes drift closed and he moans softly. Bucky traces his fingers lightly across Steve’s ears, through Steve’s scratchy beard, over his heavy brow. Steve’s eyes open when Bucky smoothes over his lips. 

“Go ahead,” Steve murmurs. “Learn every inch of me. Get to know me.” 

Bucky nods and palms over Steve’s burly shoulders slowly, feeling the hard muscles beneath his smooth skin. Bucky can’t wrap his hands around Steve’s biceps, nowhere even close. He thinks the man can tow cars out of ditches with just his arms. 

Slowly, Bucky slips his hands down Steve’s forearms, the wiry hair is soft, but not soft like his head. He’s so solid. Bucky’s in awe of the way he can get through life without breaking anything he touches. Steve’s hands are rough, of course, but clean. He takes care of them as well as his tools, Bucky supposes. He picks one up and lingers over the lines of Steve’s palm. 

“Am I going too slow?” he asks, finding Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t want Steve to be bored. 

With tight movements, Steve shakes his head just once. “You’re going just perfect.” 

Bucky doesn't know about that, but he’s having a good time learning him. Knowing him. Bucky comes back up Steve’s arms, over his shoulders, and presses against his chest. The hair on Steve’s pecs crinkle, and when Bucky passes gently over his nipples, Steve’s body tightens beneath him. Bucky can feel the banked power in his body. Steve’s legs are not tied down—he could probably still do whatever he wanted to him and easily so. But Steve holds himself in check while it looks like he’s holding down an electric wire. So Bucky teases circles around his nipples, getting close but not touching, and Steve groans. Oh, he likes this. Steve moans again. 

Bucky smiles. “Like that, do you?” 

“Fuuuuck.”

He thinks he’s beginning to feel drunk with power. Bucky zeros in on one nipple and draw it into his mouth, sucking and biting while Steve’s arms strain against the ties. Bucky’s grown bolder now. Kissing and licking all over Steve’s chest and moving down. There’s a lot of skin there. Steve’s so wide and firm. The texture of his skin changes. Bucky dips his tongue into the grooves of his taunt six-pack, lost in the sensation. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re killing me, and I love it,” Steve says, all gruff and throaty. 

“I love it, too, baby.” 

Steve looks to the ceiling, reminding Bucky of the day at the courthouse. No help for him up there. Afterall, Steve’s the one who keeps inviting this trouble into his life. The lower Bucky goes, the more he feels the bulge in Steve’s pants pressing into him. Yeah, he’s big there, too. Massive. Because of course, he is. 

“My goodness, Rogers. Your pants must be hurting you.” Steve sighs hard. But he won’t insist Bucky take them off. So instead, Bucky embraces his authority and climbs off Steve to pull the zipper down, giving him relief. “You should have said something.” Steve grunts. Silly man. Bucky pulls them down, past his hips, and then completely off. Steve’s still got his boxer briefs on, but they are tented up. 

Bucky’s not quite ready for that yet, so he starts exploring at Steve’s feet and works his way up. When Bucky reaches for the waistband of his briefs, Steve asks him to stop. “You don’t have to, Buck. I don’t want you to think you’ve gone past the point of no return if you aren’t ready. We can stop. Anytime.” 

“If you think I’m leaving without this prize tonight, you’re delusional. I don’t want to stop.” To make his point, Bucky yanks the briefs up and over Steve’s straining cock, pulling them down his legs. 

It’s fucking huge. He has serious doubts that thing will even fit inside his body. But his mouth is watering and something very primal insists on his next move. Tentatively, Bucky touches Steve’s cock. It’s powerful, strong like the rest of him. Rich and velvety in texture. Steve’s eyes are squeezed closed, and his entire body is tense as Bucky’s fingers skate up and down the shaft. The large tip is weeping pre-cum, and Bucky uses some of it to make the slide of his hands easier on them both. 

Steve starts mumbling gibberish. Mostly filthy words that turn Bucky on even more, especially knowing they are being ripped out of him. Bucky pushes Steve’s legs wider so he has more room. He holds Steve’s cock up and rubs his cheek along it, making friends. Worshiping it. “Steve?” 

The tendons in Steve’s neck are tight. “Yeah?” he croaks. 

“I love your cock.” 

“Oh fuck, baby doll. You’re going to make me come.” 

“I hope so,” he grins, before he runs his tongue around his tip, noting where Steve gets more sensitive, savoring the flavor of him. Bucky gives him little licks, like a kitten lapping milk, and Steve’s hips are thrusting up and down like he can’t control himself. 

Bucky doesn’t want him to control himself. 

“Can I still do anything I want?” he asks, coyly, letting his eyelashes flutter as he glances up at the blond. 

“Fuck, you can have the title to my fucking house, baby. Yeah, do whatever you want. It all feels good.” 

“Good,” Bucky murmurs, nuzzling the place where Steve’s shaft meets his balls. To Bucky, Steve smells the way fresh sheets feel. Clean, comforting, warm. “What I want is to take you in my mouth. I want you to come in my mouth. Can we do that?” 

Bucky doesn’t wait, just sucks Steve in as far as he can get him. He feels amazing on Bucky’s tongue, in his mouth. The weight of Steve, the scent of him, the taste of him. Bucky can’t stop one hand from reaching into his own pants to rub his dick. And that is when Steve finally loses that control. 

“Oh fuck, baby. Yeah, touch yourself while I pour into your mouth.” 

The first spurt goes all the way to the back of Bucky’s throat, and he almost gags, but that’s okay. There’s more. Steve’s body is wracked with shakes, and he comes and comes, cursing in between telling Bucky that he loves him. Steve’s completely gone, and he took him there. 

That’s when he comes into his own hand. 

* * *

Steve

* * *

He’s sure he’s dead. He has to be. No man can come that hard and live to tell the tale. His arms are killing him. Pulling against the ties has been a resistance workout that he’s not used to. And fuck, his omega is still half clothed, resting his smooth cheek on Steve’s leg. 

Steve wants to pull him closer. He needs to touch Bucky, but this is Bucky’s show, not his. Steve can’t complain, not when he’s entirely fucking sated. 

“I’m still a virgin,” Bucky mumbles against his leg. 

“Yep.” 

Bucky lifts his gorgeous face up and looks at him. “That was amazing.” 

“Yep.”

Releasing a gentle snort, Bucky’s body jumps. “Is that all you have to say? ‘Yep?’” 

“Nobody has ever made me feel an orgasm with my entire body before. You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and I think I can smell colors now.” 

Bucky grins. “That’s better.” Then, he clambers up the bed and begins loosening the ties. “Your body is like a fun park, Steve.” 

With the binds gone, Steve shakes out his arms. “So, are you okay? You liked what we did? I feel like maybe I got all the fun, and you got all the work.” 

Bucky lays his head on Steve’s chest. “I loved what we just did. I loved everything about it. I’m a huge fan of your cock.” 

“My cock worships you, baby doll.” 

“Good,” Bucky muses, placing a quick peck to Steve’s ribcage before tilting his head up. He’s got a real nice face. Steve would do many sins for that face. “Does that mean you’ll make me something to eat then? You’d think I’d be full right now, but…” 

“I’ll make you anything you want. And you can still have the title to my house.” 

Bucky laughs, and it’s the best sound ever. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember that promise. You were a little out of your head when you offered it.” 

Bucky doesn’t get it yet. That anything Steve has is his, too. Time will tell. 

Steve kisses Bucky’s forehead before leaving their nest to bring his omega food. As his hands work, his mind travels back to the activity they just finished. He wasn’t sure that typing himself up was his best idea. It was an instinct-- he wanted to give Bucky full control. He wanted to get Bucky past that fear that kept stopping him. He just didn’t realize that he was going to love it so damn much. Bucky’s hands and mouth on him was heaven. It was more than sex. Had to be. Steve’s never felt anything like that before. 

And fuck, he’s getting hard again. Al-fucking-ready. 

He almost drops the plate of sandwiches when he gets back to their bed. He had expected Bucky to be snoozing, or maybe overthinking like always, but no, Bucky’s sitting up, under the sheet, and his clothes are on the floor. Yeah, Steve’s dick is solid now. Bucky’s  _ naked  _ in his bed. 

Bucky raises one dark eyebrow the way Steve absolutely loves. 

“I can’t tell if you’re hungrier for this sandwich or my dick right now,” Steve says, methodically like he’s in a trance. 

“Sandwich first, dick next.” 

“Seriously?” 

Bucky nods. “Yeah.” He reaches for his food before Steve even sits, telling him with a proud smile on his face, “I think I’m an addict now.” 

Steve chuckles. “Well, I’m happy to be your supplier.

They eat, but the tension between them is growing stronger. Steve fucking wants him. Bad. But he needs to make sure Bucky’s not just going along with things in order to not be a virgin. Or in order to please Steve because he thinks it’s expected of him. 

Bucky nudges him. “You get a crinkle between your eyebrows when you’re thinking hard.” 

“Yeah. I just want to make sure you’re completely on board.” 

“I’m on board. One-hundred percent. I want you inside me.” 

Steve’s no kind of superhero, not one enough to resist when Bucky says those words. It’s enough for him. Just as much as Bucky says he wants Steve inside of him, Steve wants inside, too. He wants to claim him. His hindbrain growls at the realization that he’s going to be the first one in, and the last one in, too. Bucky’s never going to need another man because Steve will give him whatever he wants. Whatever he needs. He’s whipped, and he doesn’t care. Not one fucking bit. 

Bucky pulls the blankets off his body and Steve gets his first real look at his omega naked. “You’re perfect,” Steve says, shifting to lay on top of Bucky, wanting to feel all of him against his skin. His cock is between them, insistent, but it will have to wait. It had its turn and will get another, but now it’s time that Steve gets to know Buck’s body. 

Steve moves down slowly, dragging the sweet, honey scent of Bucky’s skin into his nose, getting the taste of him over his tongue. His Omega.  _ Mine _ , his mind growls. 

Bucky lets his head fall back when Steve nuzzles at the soft skin above his hole. After he places an almost chaste kiss there, he says, “I want you to watch me, baby.” 

Bucky lifts his head and questions him with a look. 

“I want you to watch me. I want you to watch me turn you inside out.” Steve licks him slowly, making eye contact with him. Bucky moans, struggling to keep his eyes on him like Steve asked. “You taste so good, sweetheart.” 

His beard is scraping the soft skin of Bucky’s inner thighs and Steve pushes Bucky’s legs further apart, bending them at the knees. “Look at that pretty hole, baby.” He spreads Bucky’s cheeks apart, gratified to see Bucky’s slick with the sacred omega secretions. “I’m going to suck on that sweet hole of yours. My mouth is watering, baby.” And then, Steve kisses him there, tongue fucking him, his hand on Bucky’s cock, and he grinds up against Steve’s face. “You make me so greedy, baby. The more I eat you, the harder I get.” Steve wants to eat him out until his jaw locks up. Until they pass out. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of the omega squirming in his arms. “Your ass is so wet, Bucky.” 

Steve plunges his tongue into Bucky, and his slim hips arch off the bed. Bucky’s sweet body is taut like a livewire beneath him, tense and vibrating. Bucky’s fingers pull at Steve’s hair and then he pulls my head into him as if he thought Steve was trying to get away. Bucky starts crying out Steve’s name, and Steve can only guess that he’s doing okay. Hell, he’s more than okay judging by the amount of slick on Steve’s tongue. He hasn’t even gotten his fingers in Bucky yet. He needs to. Bucky’s tight, and Steve’s… well, he’s big. He doesn’t want to hurt him but he can’t wait to plunge his fucking cock into his Omega. 

Steve rests his head on Bucky’s stomach, giving them both a break for a second. The brunet still has his fingers in Steve’s hair, and like earlier, he’s massaging gently. “I want to stay in this bed with you forever, Bucky.” He rubs his bearded chin across Bucky’s stomach a few times, making him laugh. Someday, when he rests his head there, Bucky will be full and round with their baby. The thought of it sends a shock of heat through Steve’s blood.  _ Fuck _ . He wants to come inside Bucky so badly. “Someday, I’m putting a baby in here.” Let Bucky be shocked. Steve’ll never be anything but honest with him. 

“Oh, Rogers. Why is that so hot?” 

“Because I’m your man. I’m yours and you’re mine. Someday—I know not now, but someday, I’m going to knock you the fuck up.” 

Bucky laughs again. “You’re such a caveman. Me breed Bucky. Me make baby.” He stops laughing. “Oh my God. That really is hot. I’m not even joking. Tell me again.” 

Steve sits up and bends Bucky’s legs, resting his cock on Bucky’s and rubbing then together. “I’m going to fucking breed you, Bucky. I’m going to come in you so hard and so often and with so much come, you’ll be leaking me out for days.” 

“Yes, yes. Oh shit, I love it when you talk dirty.” 

Steve slides their dicks through his hand, their pre-cum mixing together to make them slippery. They both hiss with pleasure. “I don’t know how much longer I can last. If you have any second thoughts, now is the time, baby.” 

Bucky reaches between them and takes hold of Steve’s shaft, holding him notched against his ass. “No second thoughts. I want you.” 

Steve doesn’t know how it’s possible, but his cock gets even harder. Bucky is every fantasy he’s ever had. Mouthy, sexy, smart, and now Steve gets to fuck him raw. If he lasts two strokes, it will be a miracle. 

“I want to feel you,” Bucky whispers against him. “I want to feel it when you come inside me.” 

Steve’s leaning over him and his arms are shaking because it’s taking every damn ounce of strength he has not to slam into him. “Anything you want, baby doll.” Steve begins to massage Bucky’s ass, opening him up with his fingers. One meaty digit goes in and Bucky panics. Bucky’s lungs seize. His body goes rigid. “Easy, love.” 

Bucky takes a deep breath and nods for Steve to continue. He manages to slide his finger in and out a few times. “So tight,” he mutters, before adding another, stretching him, coaxing Bucky to take more. Getting him ready for Steve’s cock. At the third finger, Bucky’s moaning and breathing hard while he fucks himself against Steve’s hand. Steve uses his other hand to cup Bucky’s face, keeping his eyes trained on him. It’s intimate. Like they’re the only two people in the world. 

Steve pushes Bucky’s legs back and rests them on his own shoulders. Then, Steve pulls Bucky’s arms until they’re pinned above his head, his wrists in Steve’s hand. With his other hand, Steve adjusts the angle of his cock so just the tip is poised at Bucky’s entrance. Slowly, Steve leans forward, pressuring the head in. 

“That feels so good already, baby.” He turns his face into Bucky’s leg and kisses it tenderly. “Your ass is grabbing my cock so tightly, Buck.” Bucky’s legs start shaking as Steve work himself in a little more. Bucky moves his hips as the sensation of being filled too much increases. “Don’t fight it. Let it happen,” Steve whispers, stroking Bucky’s cock while he talks. “I want to fill you with my come, sweetheart. I want to come inside you over and over.” Steve pushes all the way in and pauses, letting Bucky adjust to the burn, the fullness. “That’s it, baby. Relax and get used to my cock.” 

Bucky’s breath comes hard and fast. “I-I need you to kiss me,” he whispers. 

Steve maneuver Bucky’s limbs around his waist and takes his mouth. Steve rocks into him, slowly at first, and he hisses with pleasure when he eases back in. “You feel so fucking good.” He starts playing with Bucky’s cock again. “You’re so tight. So sweet.” He knows instantly when he starts hitting Bucky in his pleasure zone. “You’re milking my cock, baby. You’re going to pull all my come out of me, aren’t you? You want it inside you?” 

Bucky’s on the edge of coming. He digs his heels into Steve’s back, locking his legs around him, pulling Steve deeper into his quivering body. “Make me yours,” he pants.

Steve freezes, shaking with need as he stares at his Omega, wanting to be sure. “I’m going to have to pull out soon or I’ll knot you.” 

Bucky shakes his head frantically. “N-no. Make me yours, Steve.” 

A switch flips inside his brain. Turning off, Steve thinks. Now all that remains is the drive to mate his Omega. Steve angles his hips and starts thrusting like he’s trying to fuck him through to the box spring of his bed. His cock expands even more, the knot starting to form, hardening inside Bucky. “Can you feel it? Nobody can tear us apart now.” Bucky buries his nose into Steve’s neck. “You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, you’re amazing.” 

One final, brutal thrust and they both curse as they notch together. “I-I’m coming. Oh f-fuck, Steve, I’m coming!” 

Bucky’s ass starts squeezing, milking Steve, and Steve’s hand strokes him hard as Bucky comes into it. Steve’s licking Bucky off his fingers when he’s overtaken with a need he can’t deny. Not another second. One hard pulse has Steve holding Bucky down and pouring into him. 

“Take it, baby. Take all of it.” His dick starts pulsing, rhythmically shooting seed into Bucky. Steve clutches Bucky’s hips, holding him still to accept all of his come. All of it.  _ Fuck _ . It goes on forever. 

Bucky’s grip on him tightens. “I think I’m going to ...again.” 

“Fuck, baby. You come again, I’ll make you the best fucking dinner ever. Let go, baby. Let it all fucking go,” he growls. 

Bucky arches under him, coming around Steve’s cock, but not spending this time. Steve’s never seen that happen before. The sounds Bucky makes stirs something inside him. Steve wants his baby in his Omega so badly. So fucking bad.

They lay like that for a long time. Until the sweat on their bodies chill. Until Steve’s finally able to pull out. Bucky grins at him. The look in his eyes makes him feel more manly than anything else he’s ever seen or done. 

Gently, Bucky caresses Steve’s cheek, his eyes twinkling so prettily. “If you’d be so kind as to go make that dinner now?” 

Steve snorts. “You’re a sassy boy. But since I promised you dinner...” 

“And your house.” 

“And my house.” 

“Steve?” Bucky calls out as Steve’s halfway across the room. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“After we eat, I want you to come in my mouth again.”

With a chuckle, Steve smiles. “Sure, pal.” 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Bucky

* * *

Tires crunching gravel never used to scare him so much. But, Steve is already home. 

Steve is also a homebody and nobody else ever comes here, so it’s unusual for a vehicle pulling up that isn’t Steve’s. 

Instantly Bucky’s stomach sinks and he shoots downstairs from where he’d been working on installing software into a computer probably too old to take it (It was a miracle that Steve agreed to the program but Bucky wasn’t optimistic enough about his chances of getting Steve to buy a whole new machine).

“Stay here,” Steve tells him. Like Bucky’s his pet dog. Steve gestures for him to go back up to the loft but he defiantly shakes his head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

Steve growls at him. “ _ Bucky _ .” 

“If it’s trouble, and we both know it’s going to be, you’re not handling it for me. I won’t let you.” 

Steve curses under his breath and puts a shotgun behind the door. Fuck. Bucky didn’t even know there was a shotgun in this house. He stares at it, trying to still his heart. Shit is getting real and he doesn’t want Steve shooting anybody or getting shot because of him. 

Two people-- a sandy blond man and a striking red headed woman both in suits-- climb up the porch steps. Steve opens the door but stands in the entryway, his arms crossed over his expansive chest. The two in suits are clearly oversized by Steve but it doesn’t take away from how composed the woman looks while the other gives Steve an impressive one-up. Size doesn’t matter though, not if a bullet comes straight for Steve. 

“Mr. Rogers, right? Steven Rogers?” The one with dark blond hair asks. The woman, however, catches Bucky looking out the curtain. 

“James Barnes is here,” she tells her partner. “Mr. Rogers, we need to talk to James.” 

“James who?” 

The woman sighs impatiently. “The young man I just saw in the window.” 

“That’s my boyfriend. I don’t know anyone named James.” 

The two give each other a long look. It’s composed, like they’ve done this a few hundred times or more. Then, the sandy blond holds his arms out in front of him like a placating gesture. To Bucky the scene looks more like a matador readying themselves to fight a charging bull. “Sir, he’s not in any danger. We would just like to speak to him on a few important matters.” 

Steve shakes his head. “It’d be best if both of you left my property. You asked about him. He’s not here. It’s time for you both to go.” 

Bucky wishes it was that simple. 

The woman reaches into her breast pocket and Bucky feels cold terror run straight through him, forcing his legs into action. 

“Wait!” he exclaims, running out. “Wait, wait, wait. There’s no need for that. I’m James. I’ll come with you willingly if you promise to leave him alone. Please don’t shoot him. Please.” Steve catches him with one thick arm around Bucky’s waist and pushes him behind Steve’s brick wall of a body just as the woman pulls out an ID badge. 

“Nobody is here to shoot anyone. James, we aren’t here to take you away. We just need to ask you a few questions.” 

_ Oh _ . 

Steve looks at her badge, then asks for the other man’s, too. Bucky tries to read it over Steve’s shoulder, but he’d need a step-stool. “They seem authentic, Buck. What do you want to do? I can send them away, or you can let them talk. Up to you.” 

Bucky’s sure it’s been happening over the last week, but this is the moment that he finishes falling in love with Steve. It seems strange that it isn’t when he’s kissing Bucky senseless or when they’re wrapped up in each other in the most intimate way possible. But no, it’s when he gives Bucky the room to make his own decisions. Steve’s there for me, he knows. Steve won’t leave his side. But he also won’t smother Bucky or expect him to do what he thinks is best. It’s really… perfect. 

“What kind of questions?” Bucky asks eventually, after biting into his cheeks for a minute or two. 

The blond agent cocks his head. “Well, for starters, did you know your stepfather is dead?” 

****

He’s always thought he’d be too cool to faint like some southern belle in a too tight of a corset, but he was wrong. The world gets dark, and then the dark gets fuzzy. He remembers sliding to the floor, but he doesn’t remember hitting it. He’s on the couch now, awake, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet, fearing the world to still be spinning. 

“Smooth, Barton.” He hears the woman say. “I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to shock people like that anymore.” 

“Mr. Rogers,” the other says. “I apologize.”

Steve is stroking Bucky’s hair. The feeling of those thick digits combing through his hair is pretty fucking good. “There are washcloths in the bathroom. Get one and wet it. It’ll be good for him right now.” 

Bucky takes that moment to admit he’s conscious. He blinks slowly, and Steve is staring right down at him, concern etched into every feature. 

“Hey,” he says, for lack of better sentiment. 

“Hey,” Steve replies but his voice is so soft, like he’s scared his goddamn words will somehow make Bucky pass out again. “Want to try sitting up?” Bucky nods and Steve eases him up when Sandy-Blond comes back and hands him a washcloth. Bucky holds it to his forehead. Breathes a few times. 

“Is Alexander really dead?” 

Sandy-Blond steps back so his partner can take over. “Yes, we’re fairly certain it was a mob hit. His body was found in the bay.” 

_ Oh, God _ . Bucky hated Alexander, but he didn’t want him dead. He’d never wish that on anyone. 

“The mob?” he squeaks. It hits him then that said mob might still be after their collateral.  _ Him _ . It’s time to go west again. Bucky tries to stand, but Steve holds him in place. 

“Let the blood settle, baby. You’re in shock.” 

“What if they come after me next? Steve, I won’t put you in danger.” He turns his eyes toward the agents, pleading with them both. “Alexander promised my...me...to one of them. I don’t know who. They might come looking for me.” 

“Actually that was me you were promised to,” Sandy-Blond says. 

Steve leaps from the couch and uses his body to block Bucky entirely as he advances on the agent. The woman is quick to interfere, holding up both of her hands before Steve can make it too far. “Jesus, Barton. You’re the worst at talking,” she says, clearly pissed off. 

“I was  _ posing  _ as someone in the mob,” Barton explains to Bucky, quickly, as Steve shrugs off the red head. “We’ve been watching Alexander for a while. Working undercover. When he offered your...you...to me, we realized we could add some charges. But then you disappeared before we could conclude the sting.” 

“Agent Barton was not the only bad guy your stepfather was dealing with, though. His gambling debts caught up with him before we could intervene.” The woman shoots Barton a look to shut him up when he inhales like he’s about to speak. 

The woman takes charge as soon as Barton’s mouth snaps shut. “The government has seized all of your stepfather’s property. I’m very sorry, James, as we know that must seem very unfair to you. We understand it belonged to your parents and should have gone to you, but Alexander made sure everything but your trust was in his name. We had the warrant and the property when he disappeared shortly after you did.” 

“It’s all gone?” 

“For the moment, yes. With him being dead, we’ll push for everything to be reclaimed back to you through a wrongful claim on Pierce’s behalf but the chances are fifty-fifty. I would say that since everything belonged to your father before Pierce’s involvement, you should have a good chance at a successful claim. Of course, everything that Pierce bought after your father’s death would be solely Pierce’s belongings.” 

Bucky nods. He feels some hope at the words but it’s slim. He could never live back in that house again. Not after all that has happened, but it’s a relief to know that it’s possible not everything his father worked so hard to get is completely gone. 

“Your trust fund is completely safe. When you turn twenty-five, you get it all. Pierce was unable to touch it.” That means the next four years, Bucky’s on his own. “Until the claim is settled, we’ve looked into some things on your behalf. Your tuition for fall had been prepaid so you can still go to school.” 

Bucky nods. There’s more. The woman keeps talking, and Bucky pretends that he’s hearing, but really, he goes into some weird zone where all of the words aren’t actual words, just white-noise. 

Steve must notice since he asks the agent to stop talking. “Are you okay?” he asks, turning to him. 

Bucky shrugs. “Sure.” 

“James, is there someplace we can take you?” 

“Take me?” Bucky’s eyes shoot to Steve. 

“You’re not on the run any longer. If you’d rather go somewhere else. Somewhere safer?”

“Safer?” 

“If you don’t want to stay here, or if Mr. Rogers isn’t interested in continuing to have a house guest…” 

“Bucky owns the title to this house. He can stay as long as he likes,” Steve corrects her.

Like a crazy person, Bucky laughs. It sounds weird even to his own ears. But this is Steve’s big chance to pass him off as someone else’s problem. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly. “I can go… somewhere else.” 

Steve’s face turns white. “If… if you want to go, you can.” 

“What does that mean? Do you want me to go?” Bucky asks, his eyes getting wider by the second. 

“What?” 

Barton starts pacing, chuckling. “The two of you are so dense.” 

“Barton.” The woman is holding onto the bridge of her nose. She’s going to have heart problems if she doesn’t do something about her blood pressure or get her partner under control.

“I know I’m not supposed to talk but they are obviously unable to manage themselves. Look, kids, I’m convinced that Bucky isn’t being held here under duress. You’re obviously boinking, so—” 

“ _ Barton _ !” 

“There’s no danger. Nobody needs to hide. Nobody is getting whacked by the mob. Nobody but Pierce, anyway.” 

“ _ Barton _ !” 

“So tell him you want to stay. And you,” he points to Steve, “tell him you want him to stay. I’d like to get back to the city before nightfall.” 

At the same time, Steve’s mouth opens and he’s saying “I want you to stay”, just as Bucky’s insisting,“I want to stay.” 

Barton is headed to the door already, but the woman leaves them some instructions for who to call to get his personal effects like clothes and how to claim something that is mine that might have been impounded. They’re gone in a whirlwind. 

Steve brings him tea again and hands him some paperwork. “What is this?” 

“I started the title transfer yesterday. You need to sign it in front of a notary.” 

Bucky looks down before slowly meeting Steve’s gaze. “Steve, why on earth are you signing away your house to me?” 

* * *

Steve

* * *

“I told you I was going to sign the title over to you. I don’t understand why you are so surprised that I did. Have I given you any indication that I am not a man of my word?” He does realize that it might be considered rash behavior, but he was more grateful than ever that he started the paperwork before they got the news today about the possibility of Bucky losing everything. 

Bucky scoffs. “Steve. Sex talk is not to be taken literally. I understand that and I’ve only just been indoctrinated this week.” 

He shrugs. “I know it’s nothing like the house you lost, but—” 

“Stop. That’s not what this is about.” 

“Then what is this about? I wanted to make sure you had something in your name.” 

“It’s your  _ home _ ,” Bucky says in disbelief. “You’ve worked so hard for it. Why would you just give it away?” 

“It’s mine and I want you to have it. It’s not necessary to kick me out, though I suppose that will always be an option for you.” 

Bucky grabs at his hair and brings his knees up to his chest, shrinking in on himself. “You’re a high-functioning adult. I don’t understand why you don’t see how this is bizarre behavior. People don’t just give everything they worked for to a boy they’ve been, as Agent Barton so eloquently puts it, boinking for a week. Also, it makes me feel a bit like a prostitute.” 

Steve’s blood pressure rises. “That’s the first stupid thing I’ve ever heard you say. I’m not paying you for sex. I’m giving you something important to me because I love you. When we get married, I’ll get half of it back anyway, so it’s really not as big a deal as you think.” 

Bucky’s eyes get even wider. He’s looking at Steve as if he’s grown another limb. “Married?” 

“Yes, married. I love you. I fully intend to fill you with babies, another thing that was not just sex talk. I’m not saying we do it now, but yeah, when the time is right, we’ll get married.” 

“You’re insane.” Bucky puts down his tea and gets up to pace. “We’ve known each other less than a month. I’m a pretty big mess and have been since you met me. I need to get my shit together, and until I do, I have nothing to offer you.” 

“That’s the second stupid thing I’ve heard you say. Do you think you have to have it together to deserve to be loved? Bucky, most of the people on this planet are a mess. None of us know what we are doing. You do your best each day and hope it’s working. Then you find the person who makes you feel like you at least understand why you’ve been trying. I own a business. I work hard. I get up each day and try to be a decent guy. But I don’t have my shit together any more than you do, and I’ve had more practice. I’m surly and reclusive, and I don’t need a headshrinker to tell me it’s because I’ve been by myself ever since my mom died. But then I met you and now I understand why I get up each morning. Why I try to be decent. Why I work hard.”

Bucky’s stopped walking around the room and is just staring at him now, his grey eyes wet. “I feel like I’m in a Julia Roberts movie right now...and no...not the one where she’s a prostitute.” 

“That might be the only Julia Roberts movie I’ve seen.” 

Bucky gives him a watery laugh. “I love you, too. I do. But I can’t just take all your stuff. I need to figure out what I’m doing. How I can give back. It’s not fair to you to take me on in this state.” 

“You do whatever you need to do, Bucky. Your house and your man will be right here waiting for you when you’re ready for us.” 

“Steve...” 

“No decisions have to be made right this minute. You have another five months until college starts again. I’m not pushing you under or pulling you out of the water, Buck. We can just tread right here for now. Okay?” 

Bucky looks at him for a long time. He does that thing with his mouth where Steve can totally tell that he’s chewing on the insides of his cheeks as he thinks everything over. He doesn’t push, he just stands there, waiting, praying that Bucky understands that he’s being one hundred percent serious. It takes a painstaking while but eventually, Bucky nods his head. “Okay. I think.” 

“You’ve got a lot to think about with your stepdad and all. Do you want to go for a walk or something?” 

Slowly, Bucky grins. “Or something sounds nice.” 

He’s ready instantly, feeling his groin pool with heat. He wants back inside Bucky and that is a fact. In fact, since the moment Bucky ran between Steve and the agents on the porch, Steve’s felt a deep need to be balls deep in him again. To know he’s safe. 

He grabs Bucky around the middle, fast and hard, enjoying his surprised gasp. Enjoying it even more when Steve pushes him roughly over the back of his couch. “What are you—?” 

With one hand planted on Bucky’s back to hold him down, Steve yanks down his shorts and underwear. “Now that I have your attention, I’d like to bring up the incident on the porch where you ran between me and what might have been a gun.” 

Bucky twists around, so Steve restrains his arms. “Steve—” 

“You scared about ten years off my life.” 

“I’m sorry, but—” Bucky shuts up the minute Steve buries his finger in his ass. 

“Don’t move,” he whispers into Bucky’s ear. He feels Bucky shiver as he bunches his shirt up and over his head. Steve uses his hands and mouth all over Bucky’s spine, the back of Bucky’s neck, the sides of his torso, until Bucky’s grinding back against him. Bucky tries to turn, to get closer, but Steve forces his hands back to the frame of the couch. “I said don’t move.” The unexpected order, gruff and low, followed by a feather-light kiss in the middle of Bucky's spine is too much for him. A cry of desperation bursts out. “That’s right,” Steve purrs. “That’s my good boy.” 

He places his hands on top of Bucky's shoulders and presses his chest into Bucky's back. His arms go around Bucky, pulling him tightly into Steve's chest, grinding into him. 

“God, it’s going to feel so good to sink into you," he growls against the vulnerable stretch of Bucky's neck, letting his teeth scrape him up nice and red. He uses his fingers to get Bucky ready, teasing the nerves of the delicate fuel of Bucky's hole, and sliding his cock up and down Bucky's ass. “Always so slick for your Alpha, aren’t you?” 

Bucky's mouth falls open, his eyes scrunched shut as he tears against Steve's shoulder. "P-Please, Steve, please. I want your cock. Inside me, please."

It's all the permission that Steve needs. He angles his hips and with one slow drag of his hips, the head of his cock is sinking into his Omega, stretching him and filling him so perfectly. Just an inch. Then an inch more. Shallow thrusts push Steve deeper. It’s not sweet or gentle the way they fuck this time. Steve pulls Bucky's hair and they slap together harder. His manners, his control, are long gone.

“Never scare me like that again," he growls into Bucky's ear, his hand locked around Bucky's throat and feeling the muscles shift with every swallow the brunet makes 

“Well, you don’t ever tell me to ‘stay’ like I’m a dog again.” 

Steve smacks Bucky's ass like he's been wanting to do since that first day. Bucky shrieks and squirms, but thrusts his ass toward Steve even more. “Knot me, Steve,” he says. “Please, baby. Fuck me hard. I want it. I want to feel you.” 

They both moan. Bucky's wet, so fucking wet. And his tightness is gripping Steve, pulling his cock deep inside him. He gets a flash of how scared he was that something could have happened to Bucky on that porch, and he slams into his Omega again. 

_ Harder _ . 

He punishes them both with the brutal fucking. The sound of their flesh slapping fills the room. It’s obscene and it makes Steve go at him more. He's holding Bucky too tight, but he can’t loosen his grip. He can’t think of anything past the mind-numbing fuck he's delivering. He should pull back. He never meant to be so rough with him. 

“Oh God, Steve.” His slim body is tense and straining. He's so ready, Steve can feel it. 

“You going to come around my cock? You’re so fucking slick, baby. Tell me you don’t love this. Tell me you don’t like being fucked rough and hard. That you aren’t dying for my cock whenever it’s not inside you.” 

“Oh God, oh God.” 

“Tell me who you belong to. Tell me, baby."

Bucky chokes on air, his hands reaching up and tangling in Steve's hair. “You, baby. I belong to you. Only you.” 

“Fucking right.” The words make Steve's balls tighten and his muscles tense. The knot joins them, and Steve drives into his Omega as hard as he can. Just as he's about to go, he wraps his hand around Bucky's cock and he feels the inner muscles of Bucky clench around his own cock. “Just like that. Such a good boy.” 

The roar that brings forth Steve's orgasm is epic, and he pulls Bucky's hair and yanks his head back as he fills him up like they're animals. Wild, untamed beasts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boinking is my new favorite word and hilariously, I learned it from my grandma 😂


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Bucky

_ Five months later _

* * *

Bucky's got ninety-nine problems. 

Literally this time. 

His fucking accounting assignment is fucking huge and is fucking killing him. 

And he's hella grumpy. 

And it's his night to cook. 

_ Fuck _ .

He sincerely hopes that his roommate likes sandwiches. Again. It's been sandwiches on Bucky's night to cook for the past few weeks now, when he's so bogged down with school and dealing with his attorneys. Which is why he only has one night assigned to him out of the week. 

Maybe he'll even toast the bread. Possibly. Depending on how his roommate is feeling when he gets home. 

Bucky could probably distract said roomate by flashing him his cock, or better yet, his ass. But that wouldn’t be right, would it? Even though Bucky's dying for a good fucking down, he shouldn’t use sex to manipulate someone or get out of chores. That’s not exactly A+ adulting. 

But who is he kidding? His roommate  _ likes _ to be manipulated. Naturally, of course, he's still living with Steve. As if Bucky would dare flash himself to anyone else (nevermind how Steve would literally kill him in doing so, the possessive Alpha that he is). 

While his tuition for the semester was paid, room and board was not. He was able to transfer to online classes for the semester and stay in the cabin of love and desire with the man he's fallen in love with. 

Since he  _ does _ own the house, it made sense to stay where he didn't need to pay rent. And where he could get some really good cock whenever he wants it. It was a clear win-win. 

In all actuality, he never signed the title transfer of Steve's house. It's still in a file in the office. But in Steve's oversized heart, Bucky owns the house. It's cute and weird, but whatever. 

Oh, and he has a job now, too. After he convinced Steve to buy a new and way better computer (by flashing his ass and telling Steve it would make his schoolwork easier since his classes were online, nevermind that he'd actually already gotten his laptop back from home), he began taking on some bookkeeping for some of the other local small businesses in town thanks to the excellent references from his employer. He uses the opportunity to give them more up-to-date city-slicker advice on how to better their businesses, which most of them excitedly embrace. Not only do the majority of them get more organized, but some, like dear Peggy even manage to double her profits and finally go on an anniversary cruise with her husband Daniel that they'd been putting off for a near decade. 

In all, he's carving out his own place in this town. Give him just a bit more time, his MBA, and he'll have the town wrapped around his finger.

He thought he would miss University life more but he was glad to swap out Saturday night Frat parties for staying at home bundled in Steve's arms and just living. He had a few true friends that he still kept in touch with but the list was small and he wasn't so attached to them that he was dying to see them. 

Truthfully, small town life suits him better, even though the gossip machine runs much faster than the school one. It's a different type of gossip, he supposed. And for a self-proclaimed recluse, Steve has a lot of friends. They were hesitant of him at first-- the whole being arrested thing, then the age difference, then the whole fuzzy cloud of baggage that no one but Steve and the agents knew the details of-- but eventually they came around when they realized Steve turned into a ball of smiling goo everytime Bucky was nearby. They made each other happy and no one could deny that. 

He very much intends to keep Steve that way. 

Bucky's phone rings, pulling his attention from the mass of problems on his screen. He smiles as he reads the name. "Hey, Riley. What’s up?” 

“Hey, so I have some bad news. I can’t come to coffee tomorrow. Mom and Pops forgot they had plans and can’t babysit. Don’t tell Sam though, because then he’ll try to get off work and I don’t want that to happen.” 

Riley and Sam are probably him and Steve’s closest friends. Sam has known Steve since high school and they’ve been friends ever since. Sam married Riley a few years back and together they just had their first baby. Just two months ago, the two of them purchased a farm nearby and have been fixing it up ever since. Naturally, when Bucky met Riley the two of them hit it off and have been cooing over baby clothes and toys which just happens to be the very thing that gives Bucky  _ life _ . 

“Well, bring Wade to coffee then. It will be fun.” 

“Spoken like a person who’s never brought a six-month-old baby to a coffee shop.” 

True. Riley and Sam’s baby is the only baby Bucky’s ever even held. And he’s downright adorable. Watching Steve try and change a diaper when they had babysat one night was more entertaining than binge-watching Queer Eye on Netflix. And frankly, really fucking hot. 

“Just bring Wade,” he insists. He doesn’t say how badly he’s been dying to hold a baby, because that would just be weird. Probably even weirder than how he can’t stop smelling the baby’s hair every time he’s nearby. But he doesn’t blame himself. Babies smell so good. 

Besides Steve, Riley is someone that has been  _ incredibly  _ helpful, a friendship that Bucky values very very  _ very  _ much. He loves Steve tremendously, but there are things that Steve doesn’t understand the way another Omega does. And with Riley and Sam so happy together, with a baby and all, it gives Bucky things to look forward to, like he’s seeing a reflection of his own future. 

When Steve comes home, he’s sweaty and gross, but he’s raw in every form and Bucky chases after him like a lost puppy. Five minutes after Steve gets in the shower, Bucky joins him. It’s nothing unusual but it never fails that Steve’s face goes all sappy as Bucky slides to his knees. 

Bucky loves all the things Steve does to him with that beautiful thick cock, but Bucky has a special place in his heart for taking Steve in his mouth. He likes the control. He likes making Steve  _ lose  _ control. And he especially loves the heavy weight of Steve in his mouth. 

Bucky swirls his tongue around the head of Steve’s cock, over and over, sucking long and hard. He tries to swallow as much of Steve down as he can, but he never manages to get more than halfway, having to use his hands and lips and tongue altogether. 

Steve groans, a sound that Bucky likes a whole fucking lot. “Not so fast, baby.” Steve pulls his face off him, his cock plopping out of Bucky’s mouth. Bucky’s quick to push out his bottom lip but Steve’s even quicker, shaking his head. “Stop pouting and stand up.” 

“But I want—” 

“I know what you want, baby.” Steve bends him over. At Bucky’s entrance, Steve’s long, thick cock is waiting. He fills Bucky slowly, stretching him, until Steve’s fully seated. 

Bucky closes his eyes at the feeling. “I love the way you feel inside me.” 

Steve’s grip on him tightens. “I don’t know how I lived all these years without you to look forward to.” He pulls nearly all the way out, then pumps into Bucky hard. “I love you so much, Buck.” Their moans echo off the tiles. Steve feels so good; everything feels  _ so  _ good. “You’re going to make me come, Bucky,” he says like a curse. “My Omega wants my come, doesn’t he?” 

_ Fuck _ . Steve and that goddamn filthy mouth makes Bucky’s mouth pop open and he exhales shakily, his fingers curling against the wall. “I can’t wait.” 

“You’re so greedy. Greedy for my cock. Greedy for my knot.” 

Steve’s words touch that place in Bucky’s brain that turns off everything but wanting to breed like animals. It’s like he actually pulls a lever inside of Bucky that makes him numb to anything but his base instincts. No logic in the world can overwhelm his desire for Steve to fill him up right now. He knows what he wants. 

And he knows how to get it. 

“Give me a baby, Steve, please. God, you...” 

“What, sweetheart?” he asks and slows his pumping hips, teasing Bucky and making him that much more crazier. “Finish your sentence.” 

“I-I can’t think when you’re inside me.” 

“Good,” Steve rumbles. “Cause you don’t need to think about anything else. Just be my Omega, baby. You just come and get this cock whenever you need it. My Omega.” Steve keeps the slow pace, and Bucky thinks he might kill him. The graceful glide is electric, but Bucky wants a pounding right the fuck now. 

“Steve… Alpha,” he groans, trying to angle his hips. 

“Easy, baby. There’s no rush.” 

“Please. I need...I need...” 

“I’m going to give you everything you need. You know I will.” Steve slams hard, thrusting all the way in and then holds still. “I always give my Omega what he needs.” He repeats his actions; slams into Buckyand then holds still again, and it’s then that Bucky feels it. Steve’s cock is expanding inside of him.“I know your ass craves my cock. I can feel how wet you are. Just for me, baby.” 

“Please,” he moans. He needs to come. He needs Steve to come. “You didn’t get your shot last month. Every time we fuck, we get closer to making a baby. Is that what you want?” 

“Yes!” he cries out. He wants it so much. So fucking much. His doctor told him the effects of the birth control shot can still linger so it will likely be months before he can get pregnant  _ but--  _ sometimes the shot doesn’t even work. That’s what he’s been holding onto. The chance. The slim possibility. 

Steve’s holding him still again. He buries his face into Bucky’s neck, nibbling on his neck. “You make me feel so fucking feral,” he says, nuzzling close. “Need to mark you, baby.” 

“Do it.” They’ve talked about it, discussed it in painstaking details because that’s just how Steve is. But now, Bucky’s on sensory overload. He preens his neck and closes his eyes, waiting for the moment. 

It isn’t a surprise when Steve truly sinks his teeth in. It stings, borderlining on the side of painful, but Steve thrusts forward again and buries the pain in pleasure. The knot grows and grows, stretching Bucky’s ass, and the overwhelming deep need for Steve to come inside of him is making him crazy. 

“Oh, baby. You’re so perfect. So, so perfect.” Steve’s tense all over, his corded muscles bulging. “Tell me what you need,” he says right in Bucky’s ear, his hands splayed over Bucky’s body, pulling at every spanse of skin. 

“I just need you. Only you, Alpha.” 

“I’m about to give you more than you can handle.” He’s thrusting in and out now, plunging into Bucky in hard, deep motions. Well, as deep as the knot will allow. But Steve stops again. His hand reaches up and gently frames the spanse of Bucky’s neck. The franticness is lost immediately. “Marry me,” he whispers. 

“What? Steve, please fuck me—” 

“Marry me. Please.”

The words finally register and Bucky looks over his shoulder at him. Time stops. He can’t hear the water from the shower, he can’t see past Steve’s ocean blue eyes. The whole world has stopped turning for this one moment. 

All Steve wants is him. Bucky’s been stubbornly holding out on the wedding front. He doesn’t know why. He wants to marry Steve. He says he wants to marry Bucky back. It’s just… he’s afraid that he has sort of forced Steve into this domestic relationship with all his drama, and he wants Steve to be sure he never regrets any of this. Steve’s shown him nothing but love and care. Steve makes him laugh. Steve makes him feel safe. And somehow, Bucky fills a space inside Steve, too. It’s a miracle, and Bucky would be a fool to ever let it get away from him. Bucky’s a lot of things, but a fool is not one. 

His hand finds Steve’s and he interlocks their fingers together. He doesn’t look away from Steve’s face. With a nod of his head, he seals their fates. “Yes, Steve. I’ll marry you.” 

Steve smiles. His hold turns tighter. “Say it again.” 

Bucky smiles back. “I’ll marry you. I love you. I vow to be your biggest pain in the ass until the end of the line. I’m yours. Always.” 

Steve squeezes him as he kisses Bucky deep, and though he’s not thrusting, they’re standing still, Bucky starts coming on Steve’s cock, squeezing his cock inside him until Steve follows. They sort of melt to the shower floor on legs no longer able to hold them up, but they’re still kissing. “Say it again.” 

“The water is getting cold.” 

“Say it,” he warns. 

Bucky grins and he reaches up to trace the lines of Steve’s lips, holding him close. “I’ll marry you.” 

“That’s my Omega.” Steve reaches up to turn the water off and when the knot loosens, Bucky pretty much crawls out of the shower and grabs their towels. “So, about dinner...” 

“We’re having sandwiches again, aren’t we?” 

He flashes his pearly whites— since flashing his dick has already been done. “Sorry. You’re the one who wants to marry a man with zero skills in the kitchen.” 

“I like sandwiches.” 

“I like  _ you _ , Steven Grant Rogers.” And he does. He loves him, of course, but he also likes Steve very much. He was sure he would never make himself vulnerable, not after watching his mom lose herself so completely to grief that she let Alexander into their lives. But this man— this burly, gigantic, hulky man— gives Bucky more than love. He gives Bucky courage. And, if he’s not mistaken, Steve’s going to make him a sandwich even though it’s his night to cook. That’s true love, folks. 

Bucky’s practically skipping out of the bathroom when the pang brings him to his knees.

* * *

Steve

* * *

“ _ Bucky _ ?!” He falls to his knees behind his Omega, his hands going to his slim body instantly. “What’s wrong?” 

Bucky’s face scrunches up. “I don’t know. I just--  _ ow _ . Something hurts.” Suddenly, Bucky leans over and throws up on the floor and Steve is moving in a flash, rushing for his phone to call 9-1-1 and getting clothes to cover Bucky with. But the realization hits him that it will be faster if he takes Bucky to the ER himself. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever moved faster in his entire goddamn life. Somehow in two minutes flat he’s dressed the both of them, carried Bucky to the truck, and guns it down the road like a madman loose from hell. The entire trip to town, Bucky reassures him that he’s okay, but Steve’s whole life is passing in front of his eyes. Bucky is everything to him. If something happens…” 

“Stop brooding. It’s probably just some kind of stomach virus.” 

“What if you’re pregnant?” he asks him, reaching across the console to hold Bucky’s hand. The color on Bucky’s cheeks has all but vanished. He’s so pale. 

Bucky shakes his head, biting into his cheeks. “It’s too soon.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

Dammit. An hour ago, he was the happiest man in the world. Knotting the love of his life who promised to marry him. What if that’s what hurt Bucky? What if having his baby--

“Stop it, Steve. Quit overthinking.” 

Easy for him to say. Steve’s not a man who can abide a broken heart. He’s only just discovered he has one. 

In the ER, they learn that the pain Bucky has is in the wrong place to be pregnancy related. Turns out he has appendicitis. Turns out, Bucky’s also two months pregnant. 

“Can we just wait it out?” Bucky asks. “I don’t want to have the surgery now. The baby…” 

Steve’s mouth goes dry. “We can’t risk your health, sweetheart.” 

“But the baby…” Bucky’s eyes are rimmed red and Steve wants nothing more than to scoop him up and away from all of this. The doctor tries his best to assure the both of them that even though it’s not risk free, the surgery is the best option, and they will do everything they can to keep the pregnancy viable. 

Bucky seems to relax just a tad bit more, but he’s still vibrating with nervousness that Steve is somehow to keep buried inside of himself. He hates feeling this helpless. He can’t fix this. He can’t take Bucky out of danger. He can’t take Bucky’s pain or protect him. 

The doctors and nurses leave the room to make the preparations and Steve slumps across his Omega and fights the urge to scream. Or cry. Or cry and scream. 

Exuding a calm that Steve can’t replicate, Bucky runs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I’ll be fine,” he whispers. “You heard what they said. They can operate and not hurt our baby.” 

“You don’t know that. Omegas are supposed to take it easy when they’re pregnant, not have surgery.” 

“Well, we don’t have a choice.” 

Steve knows that, he does, it’s just so hard to accept. They’ve wanted a baby for a while now, and now that it happens this has to pop up as well. They should be celebrating, not sitting in a hospital room waiting until the surgeon comes and whisks his mate away. It isn’t fair. It’s not--

“Hey,” Bucky calls out softly. Steve raises his eyes to his. With a gentle touch, Bucky lovingly cups his cheeks in his slender hands. “I’m going to be fine. And we’re having a  _ baby _ . How crazy is that? I can’t believe I got pregnant already.” 

Bucky looks so serene and happy, but Steve’s scared to death. He wants a baby. He does. But not if it puts Bucky in danger. Why didn’t he think this through before? When Bucky suggested he stop getting the preventative shots? Why couldn’t Steve just pull out once in a while? This is all his fault. 

When Bucky gets wheeled into surgery, Steve’s at a loss for what to do. Maybe he should call someone, but he’s fuck for company right now. That’s when he sees his buddy Gabe Jones at the vending machine. Gabe takes one look at him and pockets his candy bar. 

“You okay, man?” 

Steve’s about to tell him yes, it’s what guys do, when instead, Steve slumps down into a nearby chair and lowers his head in his hands. “My Omega is in surgery.” 

“Oh man, that’s rough.” Gabe sits next to him and gives him a pat on the back. “What happened?” 

“Appendix. But we just found out that he’s pregnant, too.” 

Gabe sucks in a breath of air through his teeth. “Damn, man. Do they think everything will be okay?” 

He tells Gabe what he knows before asking why he’s there to begin with. Gabe had to get a tetanus shot after a run in with barbed wire on his ranch, but he’s okay. In the meantime, he sits with Steve, which is nice. 

“I’ve never—with an omega,” Gabe says. He’s alpha too— but Steve’s mostly seen him dating Beta women. He knows Gabe has an idea of how I feel, though. He had an Omega who was pregnant once, but she died from a bad car accident way back when. Gabe’s always felt a lot of guilt about that. 

“I never thought I would,” he admits. “With an omega. Didn’t think I wanted kids until I met Bucky. Everything changed in the time it took to blink.” 

Gabe nods slowly. “But you want kids now?” 

“Yeah. Almost more than anything. But not more than I want him to be okay.” The emotions catch in his throat. 

“He will be, man. You have to have some faith. When he’s feeling better, you should both come over for dinner.” Steve nods. Gabe’s right. Better to think about positive things. 

“I’m going to spoil him rotten, I swear to God. He lives through this and he’s going to be the best kept man this town has ever seen.” 

Gabe chuckles. “I believe you.” 

Then, the doctor comes out the double doors and pulls his cap off slowly. “Mr. Rogers.” 

Steve can’t breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter to go! Hope you have all been enjoying this short story so far :)
> 
> Best wishes!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I love this story so much. I really don't want to let it go :(

* * *

Bucky

* * *

His mouth tastes horrible. Like something’s died in it. 

And he’s really fucking thirsty. 

“Open your eyes, baby. I know you’re awake.” 

Oh he knows that voice. He really really likes that voice, too. Bucky blinks slowly, cringing at the white light that creeps past his eyelids. Everything is bright. Too bright. And his mouth-- dear _fuck_ what the hell did he eat? 

But then he remembers. The surgery. And boy does that make his eyes open wide. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice directs his gaze to the side. God he’s so beautiful. Like an angel or something just as magical. With the bright light all around him, it definitely makes Bucky think that maybe his Alpha straight up is one of the divine. There’s no way that Bucky will ever get tired of looking at him. His eyes so blue and kind and soft. 

Bucky’s on this little happy cloud of peace until all at once he remembers and inhales a shocked breath, his hands flying to his flat stomach. “The baby? Is our baby okay?” 

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah. Healthy. Doc gave me quite a scare though. He came out real slow… thought he had bad news.” Bucky frowns but is so relieved when Steve takes hold of his hands. “You wanna know what he told me?”

Bucky squeezes his hands, licking his lips. Did something happen? Steve said the baby is fine. Maybe it was something with him instead? Was the surgery not successful? He holds on tighter. “I’m a little fuzzy for guessing games, Steve.” 

“ _Twins_ ,” Steve smiles before bringing Bucky’s hands up and kissing them. “For fuck’s sake, we’re having two.”

He probably shouldn’t have a heart attack right now considering that he’s pregnant but _what_ ? Surely Steve isn’t saying that there’s not _one_ baby inside of him but _two._ “Twins?” he echoes in disbelief. “A-Are you sure?” 

Steve nods. “They saw them on the ultrasound during your surgery. Doc says they took pictures we can take home with us.” 

Bucky’s thoughts are like buzzing little bees, all shooting in the opposite directions. Twins? Warmth radiates through his body, and he doesn’t care that he just came out of surgery-- he feels like he could dance. “And they’re both healthy? Nothing happened?” 

Steve shakes his head and Bucky believes him entirely because there’s no way Steve could fake being this joyous. “Doctor says they’re both perfect.” 

His chin starts to quiver, and Bucky’s sure he’s about a second away from crying like a child. He brings his hand up to cover his mouth but he guesses he’s still attached to something because it tugs at his skin. “Ouch.” 

“You have to take it easy, Buck.” Steve’s are wet too. “Twins,” he says again, starting to chuckle quietly before letting out a deep gratifying laugh. The hearty kind. “We’re gonna have twins.” 

***

They go home the next day and it’s an understatement to say that he’s not allowed to do anything other than relax. If Steve were to have his way, Bucky wouldn’t ever get out of their bed but Bucky’s never been easy, and it didn’t matter how many times Steve huffed and puffed because he wasn’t going to stay in their room for the next six months. He refused. But, he was more than happy to let Steve carry him all around the house because at least that appeased his hard-headed Alpha. 

What he isn’t entirely too pleased about though, is when Steve brings him his hundredth cup of tea three days later. He realizes he has to put his foot down or else Steve’s going to make him go stir-crazy. 

“Go to work, Stevie.”

“Am I hovering again?” 

Bucky grins, nodding gently. “Yes. I love you and I’m so happy that you want to take care of me but if I drink any more of this tea our children are going to be born with British accents and only eat cucumber sandwiches and teacakes.” 

Steve frowns as he sits on the end of the couch. “It’s herbal tea. Not Downton Abbey tea.” 

Impressed, Bucky raises his brows. “How do you even know what Downton Abbey is?” 

“We have Netflix.” Steve grabs Bucky’s foot and starts massaging it. It feels pretty fucking amazing and Bucky sighs in content, totally ready to take yet another nap, until Steve’s opening his mouth and asking, “What do you want for dinner?” 

He throws his head back in frustration, groaning. “You just made me breakfast. Go to work.” 

Steve squeezes Bucky’s foot and growls, a deep rumbling sound that has Bucky’s insides going all tingly. “You think I don’t know I’m acting like a whipped fool right now? I can’t go to work. I can’t leave you alone. I just can’t. If something happens to you I won’t be able to breathe anymore.” 

He brings Steve’s hands to his stomach, splaying Steve’s big hands over their children. “I know you love me and you’re scared. I’m scared too. But we have to find a way to get back to normal. This pregnancy is going to be long and hard. I’m not making light of it. One baby is hard. Twins is fucking scary. I am going to do everything they say. I promise. But you’re stressing me out by acting like I might die if you look away from me for a second.” 

“Stress isn’t good for you.” 

“I know, you big oaf. So stop it.” 

Steve takes a deep breath, releases it, and fists his free hand. His eyes are so dark. Wary. He looks down at his hand on Bucky’s stomach and his face softens. “What if I’m a bad father?” 

“You won’t be.” 

“You can’t know that. I didn’t have one and my mom loved me, of course, but she was always working. What if I don’t know how to...” 

“You love us. The rest is stuff you and I will learn together. I promise you, if you love these babies as fiercely as you love me, you’ll be the best father.” And _oh_ , he can’t wait. He’s excited for their babies just as excited as he is to see Steve become their father. It’s going to be so beautiful, so perfect. 

Steve grins. “I’ll have some competition there. I can already tell you’re going to be a great daddy, too.” 

“Oh my God. I’m going to be someone’s daddy.” The thought literally just occurred to him and hell does that actually kinda terrify him. But the good kind of terrify. He can already picture it: two little babies mumbling at the both of them as they learn to talk. _Uh_ , be still his beating heart. 

Steve leans into him, one hand cupping Bucky’s jaw, and kisses him. Nice and deep. “I’m going to go to the shop for one hour. Call me if you need anything. Anything, Buck. Do not get up.” 

The shop is like twenty feet from the house. “Excuse me? All the tea is going to make me have to pee every five minutes. I’ll get up slowly and carefully, but I’ll get up.” 

Steve grunts, but he winks as he takes the first step out the door since they got home. 

Bucky misses him already. 

***

_Six Months Later_

He looks ridiculous. There’s not one single angle in front of this mirror that doesn’t make him resemble a goddamn hippo. He’s wearing stretchy pants for God’s sake. His fashion sense has all but vanished into thin air. 

He hears Steve come in through the front door and he just starts to lose it. He hates all these hormones that he can’t control. He can’t even suck up the tears long enough to get to the bathroom before Steve finds him. 

Instantly, Steve’s on edge. “Honey, what’s wrong? Is it the babies? Are you in pain?” 

“I’m fat,” he pouts. The look of concern on Steve’s face morphs into amusement before Steve can catch himself. Bucky throws the shirt in his hand at him. “You’re being a facetious dick. It’s not funny. I can’t put this shirt on anymore. It’s too tight and it’s all your fault. Mr. Big Macho Man Alpha who lets unsuspecting Omegas tie him to the bed. Now look at what you’ve done. I can’t even see my feet. And none of my shirts fit.” 

“Breathe, Buck.” 

Bucky scoffs. “Did you not just hear me? I hate you.” 

“I heard you, baby.” He holds his arms open and Bucky rushes into them. “There’s my Omega. It’s all right. I’m here now.” 

“I hate that you smell so good.” 

“I know you do.” 

He buries his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, taking a deep breath. “I hate that you look so handsome and sexy, and I look like a whale.” 

“You look more beautiful every day.” 

“ _Liar_.” Bucky squeezes Steve’s waist tight. “You really are hot and sexy.” 

“I swear, baby,” Steve insists, tilting his chin down to kiss the top of his head. “I love you, Bucky. It won’t be long before you have the babies and you’ll get your shirts back on.” 

He pulls back and looks at Steve. “We should get married.” 

“Well, yeah. That’s the idea. I’ve been saying it for a long time.” 

“No. Like. Today. Before the babies come.”

He blinks at Bucky slowly. “I’ve been asking you to marry me for months. I don’t think we can do it today, though, since it’s Saturday.” 

“We could fly to Vegas.” 

“You aren’t allowed to fly in your third trimester,” Steve says before something must dawn on him and he narrows his eyes. “What’s really going on?” 

There’s no use lying to the man. Steve knows him better than Bucky knows himself most days. He huffs. “I want to sink my nails into you in case some other omega catches your eye when I’m too big to fit through the door and leave the house.” 

Steve takes one of those deep breaths and exhales loudly out of his nose. “You know I don’t have eyes for any other omega. What’s going on?” 

“I’m just...” Words are hard. He opens his mouth and none come out. 

“I got you, baby.” Steve starts kissing him, the kind that gives him butterflies. “Take off your clothes.” 

“Not on your life.” Bucky’s not wearing a shirt, so Steve just pulls down his pants and pushes him toward their bed. “Steve. We can’t.” 

“I just want to make you feel good. I need to do it as much as you need it done. Please. I love you so much.” Steve climbs on the bed next to him and gently starts stroking Bucky’s cock, cupping him with just enough pressure, while Steve kisses his neck and down his chest. Steve dips his head and pulls one of Bucky’s nipples into his mouth, sucking for a while, then the other. When Steve lets him go, he trails down Bucky’s stomach, gently loving him with light kisses and caresses where he’s so self-conscious. Going down, down, down, Steve licks and nibbles the skin around Bucky’s cock before finally placing a soft kiss on the head of him. Bucky moans, and Steve does too when he licks the sensitive tip. “You taste delicious. My omega. All mine.” 

Steve moves down the bed kneeling between Bucky’s legs. He slides Bucky’s cock inside his mouth, circling the tip with his tongue, then sucking softly. Steve’s so sweet, so tender, that he loses himself to pleasure. Steve takes him further into the back of his mouth and sucks Bucky a little harder, his saliva coating his cock. It’s a wet, sloppy blow job, and Steve does them so well. He lets out feral growls of pleasure, the sound heightening Bucky’s own. 

Bucky yells as he comes, as Steve keeps stroking up Bucky’s shaft and sucking so fiercely until the last drop is pulled from him. When he tries to reciprocate, Steve assures him more than once that he’s fine. Probably for the best at the moment, considering he couldn’t even see over his stomach that Steve was pumping himself. 

When Steve comes back into their bedroom after cleaning up, he lays a soft kiss on Bucky’s belly. “I originally came in to tell you the painting is done. Do you want to come look at the nursery?” 

He lets out a little excited noise and rolls out of bed. “Of course I do!” He’s been waiting for the nursery to be done for the past week now, after Steve made him promise he wouldn’t take a peak until it was absolutely, one-hundred percent finished. Bucky’s kept to his word but everytime he passes the door, it’s been getting harder and harder to ignore the pull. 

They walk into the addition and Bucky’s heart swells with love and gratitude. Steve’s made a perfect room for their children. They’ve discussed that they’ll probably have to build a whole new house in a couple years, but for now, the addition is perfect for their little family. The walls are still wet, but Steve’s put a rocking chair in the corner, right by the window that lets the soft sunlight into the room. There’s a dresser against one of the walls that’s already filled with gender neutral onesies, and socks and reusable diapers. The cribs are both up and ready to go along with the car seats and double stroller. All that’s missing now is their babies. 

“It’s beautiful,” he says as he steps further into the room, letting his fingers skim over the baby blankets resting on both crib ledges. It’s so soft he could cry. “Even better than I imagined when you suggested you could build the addition yourself. Where did the chair come from?” 

“I made it.” 

Bucky turns sharply. “When did you have time to work on the addition and build a chair?” 

“You nap a lot. I didn’t want to hammer when you were sleeping, so I’ve been working on this in the shop.” 

Bucky walks over to the chair and glides his hands over the smooth wood. It looks like one of those chairs that people pay top dollar for, and it ties the room together so beautifully. So perfectly. It’s no shock that his eyes tear up. “Steve, it’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you so much, baby.” He hiccups a cry that has Steve moving and wrapping his thick arms around him. 

“Hormones?” he asks. 

Bucky nods and turn into Steve’s arms, burning himself as tightly as he can. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so wonderful. So talented and caring. I couldn’t have picked a better person to create a family with. These babies are going to be the luckiest kids on the planet. There’s no way I could ever stop loving you, Stevie.” Steve holds him closer, tighter. “I didn’t even know I had all this room in my heart. You’re my whole world, baby, you know that right?” 

“And you’re mine,” Steve whispers against him. 

They stand in the room for another half hour, taking it all in. They double check the go bags and the car seats, and Bucky categories the already growing collection of children books they have resting in the bookshelves mounted on the wall. The rug across the floor is thick and sinks beneath his socked feet, but he can easily picture their two babies crawling around on it, playing with their toys. Eventually Steve has to drag them both out of the room to go have dinner when Bucky’s stomach growls one too many times. 

Naturally, they make it to the kitchen when his water breaks. 

* * *

Steve

* * *

Bucky’s labor ends up lasting for four hours. 

Four long, painstaking hours where Steve never leaves his side, let alone let go of Bucky’s hand. The entire time he prays to keep his sanity but he lost that long before they even left the house. It’d probably vanished sometime after Bucky refused to go to the hospital until after he was fed. Steve had drawn the line when Bucky had insisted to clean up the mess and instead, threw everything in the car before securing Bucky as well.

The contractions hadn’t started until they were checking in but once they hit, they hit Bucky _hard_. And even more miraculously, Bucky stayed calm the entire time. It was Steve that was the one that needed help. All while Bucky was waiting in their hospital room, in between his contractions he was calmly reading through a baby book while Steve paced like a caged animal by his bedside as far as his arm would outstretch. He’d thought he’d been ready. He’d thought he had it all sorted and settled in his head but his omega had been in danger and Steve had been unable to find his center. 

It’s no secret that male omegas are highly vulnerable during pregnancies, especially when carrying multiple offspring, so with every beep of the machine and every grimace that crossed Bucky’s face during the final stages of labor, Steve was making the doctor and nurses make sure everything was running as it should. He probably annoyed the hell out of them but he wasn’t going to apologize then and he sure as hell wasn’t going to apologize now. 

Because _now…_ now he’s a Dad. He’s dazed and a bit confused, but he’s holding two newborn baby boys in his arms. He’s officially a parent. And soon to be a husband if he has any say over it. 

Bucky is napping and has every right to be doing so. He’d been a sweaty, exhausted mess when he pushed their son’s out but even still, when their sons were placed on his chest, Bucky’s smile had been the brightest, most prettiest sight that Steve had ever seen on him. He’d crashed out not long after the babies dozed off after being fed. The nurses had suggested that Steve do the same but once his sons are put in his arms, he can’t put them down. He can’t stop staring at them. They are so precious. His heart was so full today, but somehow, it’s even bigger now. They make the sweetest little noises while they sleep. 

“I didn’t think you could get any sexier but look at you. My big mountain of a man with two teeny, tiny babies on his chest. An omega could get pregnant just looking at you.” 

Steve looks up. “You’re supposed to be asleep.” 

“I napped,” Bucky whispers, his gaze switching in between Steve and their babies. Steve may be a few feet away in the comfy chair but he’s never felt closer to his Omega while they’re looking into each other’s eyes—all the wonder of what they’ve made between them. “I love you. I feel like there should be bigger words for what I feel, but those will have to do.” 

“I love you, too, baby. So much.” Carefully, Steve rises from the chair and crosses the room to sit beside Bucky on the bed. With the gentlest move that he can make, he hands Bucky one of their sons, the one that was second to make their debut into the world. “Look at these precious angels we’ve made.” 

Bucky looks down at the bundles in their arms. “We still have to name them.” 

“We should name this one George. Little Georgie,” he says, remembering how happy Bucky was when Steve suggested it months back. “After your dad.” 

Bucky smiles, nodding his head gently as he glances at the baby boy in Steve’s arms. “It’s perfect, Stevie. And this one?” 

In their bedside drawer back at home, there’s a notebook full of names that they’ve come across here and there. There’s ones that are double circled, some that are starred, some that have question marks next to them. But there’s always been one that Steve never wrote down yet has always been heavy on his mind. 

Steve looks down at the son in his arms. His firstborn. Their sons are identical; soft brown hair on top of their heads and blue eyes that appear exact to Steve’s own, but when Steve inspected them as soon as they were cleaned and nestled onto Bucky’s chest, he found the faintest pinpoint of a freckle on his firstborn’s ring finger. As if it was his way of proclaiming to the world who he is and how to distinguish him from his little brother. To Steve, it’s like a signal pointing him home. His sons are right there with his Omega, his lover, his Bucky. 

“How about the name West? Since that’s what brought you into my life.” ” he says before carefully picking up his head and meeting Bucky’s eyes. He frowns as he sees the wetness in Bucky’s grey gaze. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “Nothing is wrong, Stevie. I’m just so-- _so_ fucking happy, baby. West is wonderful. West is perfect. They’re _both_ so perfect.” 

They certainly are. And looking at the man he loves, Steve has to admit that life is pretty good for a recluse who happened to stumble upon a firecracker in a ditch. 

But hey, that’s life for ya. 


End file.
